


To The End

by KillainsTales



Series: To The End [2]
Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Album), Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco, The Youngblood Chronicles (Music Video), Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Gen, Gratuitous Swearing, Oops, So many song references, Song references, but sorry if i never update, gerard is angry, i can't tags, i've forgotten, including me, josh becomes a killjoy, josh has no idea what the fuck is happening, killjoys, mikey is so done, more characters will be added, no one knows anyone's names, pete and patrick are idiots, this is so much fun to write, tyler is a puppy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-04
Updated: 2017-11-28
Packaged: 2018-08-12 21:00:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7948993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KillainsTales/pseuds/KillainsTales
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Josh is good at pretending. He pretends to take his pills, pretends to comply and conform, and pretends not to know that something else exists outside his falsely happy life in Battery City.</p><p>Of course, it’s not what he expects; it never is, really. Thrown into a world of sand and sun, he finds danger, friendship, and a place he finally thinks he can really belong.</p><p>Better Living Industries, however, have other plans; they always do. Just when Josh thinks he’s home, they crack down on his new family and threaten to destroy everything he’s gained.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Coffee is nasty in the City

Josh's alarm trilled sharply and his bedroom's soft white lights clicked on.

 

Josh grunted, throwing an arm over his face. It was six-thirty. How did everyone else in Battery City pull themselves out of bed without complaint?

 

He eventually rolled to the floor and sloped into the kitchen. He was going to be late for work, again. Conformity was the one thing you had to be good at in the city, and Josh failed miserably at every opportunity.

 

The coffee machine beeped and its metal arm pushed a cup of synth-coffee towards him. Real coffee had started to come in short supply around 2020, when the Killjoys had taken over the city's main supply routes. They still held most of them, but Exterminators took Draculoids on regular patrols down Route Guano, the Getaway Mile and a couple more. All Josh cared about was that, several years later, everyone in the city was drinking some fake shit that left a nasty taste in his mouth.

 

"Ew." He made a face and let the freezer pour him a glass of water instead. "Nasty."

 

Yeah, nasty was right. But he wasn't supposed to have negative thoughts. No, Joshua, just focus on the positives in life, like all the white everywhere, and the fake coffee because no one here had the balls to take on the Killjoys or any other rebels, and everyone being so fucking happy all the time.

 

Josh took a breath, running a hand through his brown curly hair. That was another thing: it wasn't odd to have curls, but people often looked down on him because of it. _You don't belong_ , their smiles seemed to say.

 

Inherent anger, his therapist had told his mother. I recommend he be put on the list for Better Living's enrolment.

 

His mother had agreed without hesitation. That had been hard, the years of pain and re-education that never seemed to go in. On the other hand, Josh thought it had done an awesome job at teaching him how to pretend to be a functioning citizen of Battery City.

 

Time for work.

 

Josh had been assigned a job in Better Living's headquarters, which many saw as a great honour to the boy who should have become an outcast. Josh wasn't stupid, though - he knew they watched him. He was the one that the conditioning hadn’t worked on. He was the rogue, the dangerous one, and still he wasn’t dead. Yet.

 

If he was honest, Josh put it down to the fact that they needed him for some reason. He’d seen executions, broadcast citywide on the huge screens, of those who didn’t conform, even the occasional rebel they managed to drag in from outside.

 

 _Outside_. There was their mistake. No one else caught on, apparently, but to Josh it was obvious. If the rebels came from outside, then there had to be something else out there. The city wasn’t the be-all and end-all.

 

His handheld computer - stupid name, he never held it if he didn't have to - hummed from the worktop and yanked him from dreams of a different life into the stark white of reality. Great. New message.

 

 _Time for work, Joshua_ the screen read. A few seconds later, more text appeared.

 

_Don't forget to take your pills._

 

Josh growled to himself. He hadn't forgotten; it was a conscious choice. He hated them, especially the Excited ones. They were bright orange, tasted like the smell of a sewer and made his heart beat ten times faster than was healthy. If he thought about it, they did exactly the same thing as the lime green Frightened capsules. Standard.

 

Josh sighed again and quickly threw on his clothes. White shirt, grey trousers, white shoes. Anything else? Of course not. It was going to be a boring day, but that wasn’t exactly new. Maybe he should take some yellow Happy pills. At least then he could pretend to be having fun.

 

Again, amazing no one had noticed that he wasn’t on the pills, but they were probably too doped up themselves to notice anything around them. Maybe his parents would notice; they were Better Living loyalists, completely devoted to serving the city. Josh often cited that, to himself, as the main reason he tried not to visit them, rather than the fact he was the disappointing child and they hated him.

 

He shortened his name, had curly hair, had flunked out of Better Living’s training and conditioning aged thirteen, bent the rules as far as they could go – what more could you possibly do to fail as a perfect citizen? Add that to the fact that his sister and one of his two brothers had already managed to get approved marriages, and Josh was just swimming in _living flop._

 

 _Come on, Josh, be realistic._ He was doomed. If he didn’t follow the rules, he would eventually die. If he did, he would go mad. Which was better? It hardly felt like a choice: bad option, or worse option? Trouble was, he couldn’t decide which was which.

 

He left his apartment and got in the lift, tapping his fingers to the soothing music that managed to permeate every single goddamn corner of the city. It needed a beat to move it along a little. A lady joined him halfway down and gave him a disapproving glare.

 

Josh always walked along the city limits on his way to work. Technically, you weren't allowed, but it felt good. It felt like a kind of rebellion, even though it couldn't have been too bad, as shown by the fact that he was still alive. Still, it made him feel better.

 

Today was different, though. A faint alarm was sounding in the distance. A squad of Draculoids jogged past him, in masks and white gear.

 

"Citizen! Leave the area immediately. It is dangerous."

 

"What's happening?" Josh asked, and they all stopped in their tracks, unsure what to do. No one ever asked questions.

 

"There is a …threat. You should be in your work now."

 

"Of course," Josh replied easily. Compliance was expected.

 

They began to run again, pulling things from their belt, and Josh caught his breath. Guns.

 

He'd never seen one in real life. Children were always shown holograms in primary education, so those who would move up to SCARECROW training were familiar with them, but these were real, and they looked deadly.

 

They were going to kill somebody.

 

Better Living's holographic posters and citywide announcements over the speaker system always stated that the rebels were dangerous but far away. The Draculoids would be sent away to fight them in some distant land. There was never a threat to the city.

 

Or apparently there was.

 

All thoughts of work were crushed. Finally, something was happening to upset the tedious uniformity of living. Josh gave them a minute to disappear towards one of the border crossings and followed.


	2. Josh has a fucking death wish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It took a minute of heavy silence before Josh realised that the floor, despite being as white as his clothes, probably wasn't the best hiding place. Shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is! Applause! I did something!
> 
> For real, thank you for all your lovely comments, they made me smile :)

The ‘Edenic miracle of science’ (whatever that meant) that was Battery City was a circular metropolis, built in layers of round streets and roads until you reached the polyglass dome and the thick wall that barred the outside from the city.

 

In the centre was Better Living’s compound with a building for each division. The Linda Vista Medical Centre, the Incarceration Centre, the Broadcast Centre, the Technological Advancement Centre, SCARECROW headquarters – Josh could go on for weeks. He himself had spent hours in Linda Vista for attitude correction therapy and behavioural assistance, and he didn’t usually include the word ‘fun’ in the same sentence as that.

 

Around the compound, Battery City was built in circular layers, streets expanding outwards until they reached the outskirts and the edge of the dome. There were, of course, border crossings for those in SCARECROW – Exterminators, Draculoids – to leave and fight.

 

Again, leaving: not the brightest thing to do if you’re trying to convince an entire population that nothing existed outside the walls. Most of said population was too high on synthetic emotions to notice or care, but Josh didn’t count himself in that majority.

 

Which explained why he was sneaking along behind a patrol of Draculoids as they marched towards one of the crossing points.

 

That, or he just had a fucking death wish.

 

The Draculoids all began to ready their blasters, the hum of charged ions filling the air. They rounded one last corner and the city wall came into view, ten feet of reinforced whatever before the polyglass of the dome began its rise into the sky.

 

 _“Patrol 2904, position yourself at the entrance to the warehouse. There are two intruders; more is unlikely.”_ A dull voice carried to Josh, crackling, and it took him a moment to realise it was coming over a radio. _“Alive is preferable, but shoot to kill if they do not surrender.”_

 

“Holy shit,” Josh breathed.

 

“Affirmative.”

 

Josh ducked behind a huge warning sign. _Do Not Proceed._

“Screw that,” he muttered, waiting until the patrol moved away to follow them again.

 

He really had no idea what he was doing, he suddenly realised. Why was he stalking a squad of Draculoids? Did he really want to die that much?

 

Maybe he wanted to see someone from outside, to show himself that it was real. Maybe he wanted to prove that it wasn’t, and he could live the rest of his half-life in the city knowing it was all he had.

 

He was so preoccupied with his own mini existential crisis that he nearly wandered right past the huge doors. They were thick and reinforced, probably some kind of flexisteel composite, and, more importantly, open.

 

Josh stared at them stupidly for a moment. A door’s open, you walk through. A door’s closed, you don’t open it. City life. This wasn’t a door that should have been open.

 

A small plastic panel to the side read _Warehouse 3: Loading Bay: Border Point 5._

 

He was so close to a way out of the city.

 

Without another thought (which, in hindsight, was pretty stupid) Josh crept through, belatedly wishing he was in a line of work where he could justify carrying a weapon around with him.

 

The wall itself was wide enough to have its own infrastructure. Josh knew for a fact that, aside from border control and huge storage rooms, there were temporary prisons and holding cells, bays full of Better Living vehicles, roads running straight into the city, secret manufacturing points – it went on. It was the kind of knowledge you could only get from working inside the company, something Josh was able to tick the box on. Tip: if one of your civilians looks like a security risk, don’t give him a job where he has access to plans of the city.

 

Something exploded in the next room over, making him leap into the air and then immediately freeze. Strange, whistling noises – were they the ray guns? They didn’t sound threatening, but school had involved many demonstrations of what those things could do to a wall. What they could do to someone’s body was left to the imagination.

 

Josh shook himself and slid towards the loading bay, hoping with everything he had that nothing appeared behind him. _Oh, I’m so dead._

 

His legs kept walking, drawn steadily, unwaveringly, to the promise of something, something different. Just as he peered inside, the guns stopped firing.

 

The loading bay was surprisingly full; it wasn’t Better Living practise to leave too many supplies unguarded, probably for exactly this reason, although they never admitted it. Dracs were pacing between the rows of crates and boxes, white masks snarling silently, blasters ready.

 

“Hey!” A head popped up from behind a row of cooler boxes. “Over here, fuckers!”

 

That was a word no one in the city, save for Josh, had ever been heard to say.

 

“Get the fuck down!” someone else shrieked, and the head disappeared a spilt second before a storm of white lights swept across the warehouse.

 

Josh threw himself to the ground. They were trying to kill these two people, whoever they were. This was real.

 

It took a moment of heavy silence before he realised that the floor, despite being as white as his clothes, probably wasn’t the best hiding place _. Shit._

 

One stack of boxes had been pulled away from the rest of the row, leaving a gap big enough for Josh to comfortably fit. Which he did, breath held, every inch of him filled with extreme regret.

 

“Come this way!” The harsh whisper was closer than he expected, making him clench every muscle, but it wasn’t the monotone of a Draculoid.

 

The one who’d appeared from behind the boxes hissed, “Shit, man, I’m so sorry. If I’d known, I would never-“

 

“Well, we’re here now, so stop apologising and let’s get out. Now. Alright?”

 

“Hm.”

 

The two invaders slipped closer to his hiding spot, near enough that he could hear their hoarse breaths.

 

"If there's a chance to run," the first one whispered. "I want you to take it."

 

"No way. If you think I'm leaving you-"

 

Josh coughed. They both froze.

 

"You want to hide in here?" he offered quietly.

 

They nodded, still in shock, and slid into the gap, crouching against the wall.

 

They had bandanas covering their faces from the nose down and were both wearing hats. Their clothes were dark and heavy, made from something entirely different to Josh's soft white cotton.

 

"Who are you?" he breathed.

 

They looked at each other, and as one pulled their headscarves down.

 

One was nut brown, with dark searching eyes and a hard, tired face. The other seemed more childlike and innocent, green eyes in a round face.

 

"Who are _you_?" the first one retorted, and Josh decided they were both men. "You're a Blind Man!"

 

"A what?"

 

"Never mind," the second man interrupted. "Thank you for helping-"

 

Footsteps. Not two yards away from their hiding place. The two intruders froze again. The green-eyed one clamped onto the other's arm with a shaking hand.

 

"Sorry," the tanned one breathed. "I'm so sorry I got you into this shit. The others will never know what happened…"

 

"I'm sweeping the loading bay. Over." The Drac was so close. They could hear his radio crackling. Josh stopped breathing.

 

The younger one rested his forehead against the other's, shaking his head. "Don't be sorry. I don't regret a single moment, okay? Sure, sometimes I thought you were fucking insane, but I'm so glad I met you, I'm glad I lived this life. Don't be sorry."

 

The older grabbed the back of his neck and squeezed it, holding them together in a strange embrace. It looked affectionate, but it was like nothing Josh had ever seen, and they were the strangest people he had ever met, and he was about to die.

 

Too much was happening.

 

Everything was still for a moment.

 

"All clear. Over." The heavy boots moved away, and they heard a shout of, "Move out!"

 

The three of them remained as they were for a while, Josh kneeling in the corner and the intruders huddled against each other.

 

And then the two rebels laughed. They collapsed in hysterical giggles, sliding down the wall and burying their heads in their hands.

 

"Um…" Josh frowned. He'd always thought he was weird, but these two took the Better Tasting biscuit.

 

"That was - that was sick," the younger spluttered out. "How many did you get?"

 

"More than you!"

 

Was this how the rebels reacted after near death? Josh just wanted to go home.

 

"Come on, let's get out of here," the tanned one said finally, offering each of them a hand.

 

Josh stayed where he was. "Me?"

 

"Yeah. C'mon, kiddo. You helped us; you're in danger."

 

"Me? No, no. I have to be at my work. I have a job - I can't just leave the city, no matter what's out there-"

 

"So you believe there's something else out there?" the blonde one asked, a sly grin beginning to appear on his face.

 

"What made you come here?" the tanned one interrupted before Josh could answer.

 

"Huh? Oh, I was bored, so I decided to walk along the boundary, and I saw a patrol, and they had guns, so I followed them, and-"

 

"So you're not the mindless City dweller we all know and love?" Josh’s rambling was thankfully interrupted.

 

"What?"

 

"You _think_. You might work for BL/Ind, but you actually seem to have a brain."

 

"Well, my family put me in therapy and conditioning when I was younger, so…"

 

"Perfect." The tanned one yanked Josh to his feet so hard they both nearly went flying. "Come on, kiddo. Come back to our car."

 

"What?" So, his defects were perfect, the outside existed – Josh wanted to say _give me a minute, I’m working this out._

“You surely don’t wanna…go back?” the black-haired one asked innocently. “Don’t you wanna see what’s out there?”

 

“Well…” Josh hesitated. “What _is_ out there?”

 

“Trade secret.” The blond snorted at his friend’s abrupt change, and both their serious exteriors instantly crumbled. “Shut up!”

 

Back to the giggling children.

 

“I don’t know…”

 

“ _Colours_ , kid. Light and warmth and adventure. Friends, family. Life.”

 

Josh glanced towards the door. “I guess I’m a traitor. I can’t go back.”

 

“Shame, really.”

 

“Mm.” Josh let himself grin; someone understood his sense of humour. Even better, someone had a sense of humour.

 

The blond one pulled his crisp hat - a fedora – off, dusted it down and settled it back on his head. "Yeah. Come on. Have you ever wanted to disappear?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who?
> 
> Thanks to Vicky who read this and made sure it actually sounded English.


	3. Warning: Seatbelts Not Included

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The driver started the engine and revved the car in the same second, making Josh jump and grab at the dash.
> 
> “This is not safe!”
> 
> “Safest there is!” The car snarled.
> 
> “I would really love to contest that!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys
> 
> Sorry this took so long (again) but today I needed a distraction more than anything else. I mean, I live in England, and I'm already scared. We can do this - it won't be easy, but I promise we'll get there
> 
> Again, thanks to Vicky, my amazinggg beta, whose input will never fail to be helpful and whose reactions will never fail to make me laugh

'Disappearing', as it turned out, was hanging around, nervously waiting for Dracs to reappear any fucking minute, while the two rebels pissed around the warehouse like a couple of kids.

 

"We got into the city," the blond one - he was Fedora Boy, Josh decided - giggled.

 

"And if we don't go now, we'll never get out," Josh retorted, and then immediately cringed, expecting to be shot at. You didn't make smart remarks to rebels, if Better Living were to be believed.

 

"He's right," the tanned one agreed. He didn't have a name yet.

 

"Oh?" Maybe Better Living weren't to be believed, after all.

 

"Come on, guys." Oh, so he was in charge? "Let's go. They’ll still be searching the other warehouses, and I have no desire to get caught. Not again."

 

"Sorry," Fedora Boy murmured, bumping into his friend's shoulder, suddenly quiet. "I forgot."

 

Josh was completely lost, which seemed to be the order of the day.

 

"Hey, this was my stupid idea." With that, he turned to Josh, lifting his hat to push his fingers through black curls. "Come on, kid. Follow him. I won't be a sec."

 

Fedora Boy rolled his eyes and beckoned Josh. "What do you think you’re doing, you stupid asslamp?"

 

“Me?” Josh froze.

 

“No. Him, over there. The stupid asslamp.” This was explained like it was the only truth in the world.

 

"Just this." The blacked-haired man winked and turned to the wall behind him. He reached into his loose bag, and pulled out a tall metal can.

 

"Oh, you…" The blond gave a long-suffering sigh. "Just…try to not make it obvious it was you, yeah?"

 

"Nah." With that, the rebel whirled back around and pressed his finger to the top of the can; it exploded in a flurry of blue.

 

He slowly, carefully, spelled out words, sharp against the white, and stepped back with a grin.

 

_DON'T PRETEND YOU EVER FORGOT ABOUT ME._

 

"Obvious?"

 

"Extremely," Fedora Boy said candidly. "Now come on. Back to the car."

 

They led Josh through the warehouse and to a sheltered corner, dangling their blasters. There was something casual about movement, but somehow tense at the same time. Maybe they weren’t as confident as they liked to appear.

 

Better Living vehicles were black, plain, nondescript, boring. The car in front of Josh was black, sure, but nothing about it was boring. It had silver metal lining the bottom of the body, over the hub caps and around the windows. In the middle of the hood was the neat outline of something in grey paint.

 

"What's that?"

 

"Hm? Oh, a bat."

 

"Why?"

 

"A long time ago-"

 

"-a very long time ago-"

 

"Who's telling this story?" Fedora Boy asked with a smirk. "A very long time ago, we really liked vampires. So did Poison and his crew-"

 

"-and there you have one of the most embarrassing phases of our lives," the painter finished grandly, waving his blue-stained hand.

 

Fedora Boy wrinkled his nose. "It was pretty bad, wasn't it?"

 

"Oh, yeah."

 

"So we painted a bat on our car."

 

Josh silently applauded himself for actually knowing what vampires were. _An image of violence and death, a rallying point for the Killjoys, prohibited in the safe environment created by Better Living Industries for the citizens of Battery City..._

 

"Shotgun, kiddo?"

 

"What?" Josh took a step back from Fedora Boy. Perhaps they weren’t as peaceful as he’d come to think in the past few minutes. "I don't want a gun."

 

They both held their breath for a second before snorting out a laugh in unison.

 

"Do you want front seat?" the blond said kindly.

 

"Oh. Yeah. Thanks."

 

"I'm driving," the black-haired one blurted out, and the conversation took another left turn into what-the-fuck.

 

"Did you ever doubt it?"

 

"Hang on. Masks."

 

“Why?” Oh, yeah. Josh was lost.

 

“So they can’t see our faces. Here, I think we have a spare bandana or something.” Fedora Boy opened the trunk and began rummaging through it.

 

“You do know there’re cameras everywhere, right?” Josh asked. “They’ll have seen our faces a thousand times. I’m pretty fucked, actually.” He winced briefly – he’d never been profane out loud since he was thirteen – but neither of the other men seemed bothered.

 

“Not in here,” the black-haired one countered, before muttering, “And if you think you’re fucked…”

 

“Why? Surely they have surveillance everywhere?”

 

“Because.” The rebel grinned, eyes lighting up impishly. “Naughty things go on in the warehouses, kiddo. BL employees cheating the system. Loaders taking more than their share. Officials selling supplies to zonies for silly money and pocketing the carbons. You wouldn’t want any evidence of that hanging around, would you, now?”

 

“People in the city are never unfair,” Josh answered automatically, robotically. “Any corruption or ill practice is dealt with appropriately. We all work towards a Better Tomorrow.”

 

A wrinkled nose was his immediate answer. “Aw, come on. You can’t believe that.”

 

“Here.” Fedora Boy interrupted, shoving a bandana at Josh. It was red, stained messily with black. “It’s part of the design, I promise. We really need to _go_.”

 

"Hey, Youngblood."

 

"Yeah?" The blond turned, halfway through clambering into the backseat.

 

"Don't you feel like our time's running out?"

 

"I hate you so much."

 

The driver grinned, tossed a set of keys in the air (like where the hell did he pull them out from?) and nodded at Josh. "Time to leave, kiddo."

 

Fedora Boy clambered over the front seat and collapsed into the back, a pile of limbs. The driver snorted.

 

“You are a fucking child.”

 

“You just spray painted a wall.”

 

“That’s also true.”

 

Josh climbed into shotgun, automatically reaching for the seatbelt. His hand came back empty. “Where-?”

 

“Nowhere,” Fedora Boy said, sounding like he was about to burst into laughter.

 

“But-“

 

The driver started the engine and revved the car in the same second, making Josh jump and grab at the dash.

 

“This is not safe!”

 

“Safest there is!” The car snarled.

 

“I would really _love_ to contest that!”

 

“It’s stripped down, so it’s faster, so we don’t get caught by nasties.” The driver wrapped his fingers around – was that a handbrake? They hadn’t been in use since about 2020. “Mask, kid.”

 

Josh just about had time to pull the cloth over his mouth and nose before the driver slammed the handbrake off and the car went squealing across the warehouse.

 

Ahead of them was a huge bay door, thicker than any Josh had ever seen, reinforced, and wide open. The glare beyond was all he could make out, a blinding window of light against the artificial brightness of the warehouse.

 

A single flash of white sparked across the hood, leaving a scorch mark in the middle of the bat.

 

“My car!” the driver yelped, sounding more outraged than terrified. “This is a fucking _Chevelle_ , 1967, if you _don’t_ fucking _mind_ -!”

 

“Fuck!” Josh screamed. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck-fuck-fuck-“

 

Fedora Boy leaned out of the window. “Two on us!”

 

“Fucking get ‘em!” the driver snarled, eyes never leaving the open door.

 

Fedora Boy fired one shot, letting out a grunt of satisfaction, and got a flurry of blaster fire in return. “Did I say two? Lemme rephrase – a whole fucking squad of them!”

 

Josh closed his eyes. “Ohhh, we’re going to die, we are dead, so dead.”

 

“Standard,” Fedora Boy said suddenly, impossibly soft under the roar of the car. “Trust me when I say do not look behind you.”

 

“I trust you with my life.”

 

“Then keep driving. We’re not fighting this one, okay?”

 

They were almost at the door.

 

“You ready, kiddo?” Josh nodded, feeling his throat close up. Fear, anticipation – who knew? “Then hold on tight, and don’t look back.”

 

They exploded out into the light, leaving the city in their dust.

 

_Dust?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Count the song references - I got 5, but my brain basically runs on music, so maybe I accidentally wrote the entire thing in lyrics and didn't realise?? Who knows
> 
> Stay strong |-/


	4. Of Broken Radios and Undead DJs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Um…" Josh squinted at the radio. "I think it's broken."
> 
> Youngblood and the Gold Standard shared a glance before collapsing into giggles.
> 
> "Um…"
> 
> The Gold Standard was laughing so hard that the car started to drift.
> 
> "Watch the road!" Josh squeaked, and his voice slip was apparently so funny that Youngblood gave a shriek and slumped in his seat, letting out little hiccup-like noises.
> 
> "It's broken," Gold Standard gasped, resting his head back. "This is music, kiddo."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Me again! Thank you thank you thank you for your comments, they all make me smile so much. I've actually been pretty productive with this, so (she says) the next few chapters might come quickly? Maybe?? Nah, who am I kidding?
> 
> From now on, there's gonna be a running list of characters at the bottom, because, as Patrick will explain, no one uses their real name in the Zones.

Josh squinted against the light, screwing up his face until his eyes adjusted.

 

Everything was, for want of a better word, golden.

 

It was so _open_. Shit, he could see nothing for miles but flat land – gold, dirty brown, burnt amber, yellow, orange. The car was kicking up dust as it drove, more than he’d ever seen, more than had ever been allowed to accumulate in his pristine apartment. It was dirty, colourful, wild, beautiful.

 

“What…”

 

“Welcome to the desert,” Fedora Boy said quietly. Both of them had seemed to relax the second they’d left the city.

 

 _Fuck_. Josh was outside the city.

 

“It’s so…”

 

“Beautiful?”

 

“Big.”

 

“That’s a word,” the driver agreed with a grin. “I need to find the Getaway Mile, so bear with me.”

 

“Are you lost?” Fedora Boy asked expectantly, like he knew the answer.

 

“No?”

 

“He’s lost.”

 

“I am not!”

 

Josh let them bicker, staring out of the windscreen until the car suddenly swerved and a flash of light punched into his pupils. “Ah!”

 

“Oh, shit! Don’t look at the sun!”

 

“Now you fucking tell me?”

 

There was silence, and he worried that he’d finally managed to piss them off. Sneaking a glance, he saw that the driver only looked mildly bemused while Fedora Boy was grinning.

 

“I like him.”

 

“That’s the sun?” Josh rubbed his eyes, wishing the imprint of the light would stop coming back every time he blinked. “It’s never that bright!”

 

“That wasn’t the real sun you’re thinking of, kid.” Fedora Boy gestured out the back window. “Look at the city.”

 

Josh twisted in his seat. The city was just a hemisphere of polyglass rising from the ground, shrinking even as he stared.

 

“Oh.” He’d known it was a dome, but seeing it from the outside, already so small and insignificant, knowing he’d spent his whole life there – it was dizzying.

 

“The dome protects you from everything, even the good stuff.”

 

“Like us!” the driver piped up with a grin.

 

“Yes, us. I meant the sun-“

 

“The dirt.” Josh gestured at the dust cloud billowing from the wheels.

 

“Sand.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“I feel like you’re…slightly underwhelmed by this.” The driver peered sideways at him. “This is, like, underreaction of the century.”

 

“Leave him alone. He’s probably overloaded.”

 

“Hm.”

 

They drove in silence for a moment. Josh carried watching the desert, noticing the occasional straggly thing that looked like it could be a plant but was nowhere near alive enough.

 

It was _hot_. The sun was shining strongly through the windows, stronger than it ever had in the city, and his mouth was soon horribly dry.

 

"So where are we going?" Josh asked.

 

"To the end," the driver announced calmly.

 

Josh panicked. He'd been wrong to trust them. They were going to kill him. Maybe he could open the door and jump out - no, the car was moving too fast.

 

"Standard!" Fedora Boy chided. "You're scaring the kid."

 

"Huh?" The driver glanced at Josh, pressed as he was against the door. "Shit, sorry, kiddo. I meant The End; it's our camp. Largest permanent settlement of Killjoys, or of any zonedweller faction. Pride of the desert."

 

"Should you be telling me all this?" Josh stopped tugging on the handle and studied him carefully. This would have almost been too easy for a spy; he could be anyone, and they were talking to him like he’d lived in the desert all his life. "I literally left the city, like, two minutes ago."

 

"Okay, dude, lemme just remind you of this. You saved our lives. Our _lives_. Myself, I wouldn't be so bothered; I've been ready to die for a long time. What scared me was that I'd brought my friend into danger, and I couldn't live with myself if he was hurt. You helped him when I couldn't, and that means I trust you."

 

"Sappy piece of shit," the blond man muttered, but he was grinning.

 

"Shut up, fucker."

 

"Love you, man."

 

“You’re Killjoys?” Josh asked the driver.

 

“Mm-hm. Most dangerous rebels, apparently. Personally, I think waveheads are nasty little shits-“

 

“Oh, stop swearing,” the blond mumbled.

 

“You just swore!”

 

“Needs must.”

 

“Anyway,” the driver continued with a sigh. “Yes, we are Killjoys. We all – apart from a few nomads – live in a camp called The End Of All Things, right on the edge of Zone Two. It’s called that – or just The End – because it’s the ass end of nowhere, and we hope with everything we got that Blind don’t try and go for it.”

 

“Why do you call them that? Blind?” Josh frowned, trying to follow their easy, almost lazy way of speaking.

 

“We call ‘em Blind – B-L-Ind – because they are, you are, and they try to make us so we are. But we won’t go down without a fight, and they don’t like that.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“Again, good reaction.” The driver finally found some kind of track; at least, it looked like there were tyre tracks, so it was probably safer than wild desert.

 

Josh sat back, trying to relax as the stripped-down car bounced along. Fedora Boy pulled himself forward from the backseat and flicked the radio on.

 

"Put your seatbelt on!" Josh yelped.

 

"I would if these seats had one as well," came the reply. "You're too used to following the rules. Stripped-down equals fast, remember, kiddo."

 

The driver sniggered, teeth white in his tanned face.

 

 _"Listen up, all you tumbleweed_ …" The radio crackled into life, a deep voice full of expression, sometimes anger, talking about Dracs, things getting 'ghosted', Costa Rica (wasn't that a country they'd had to learn for intermediate education?) - most of it floated straight past Josh's ears.

 

"Why tumbleweed?"

 

"Hm?" The driver looked sideways.

 

"The…announcer. Why'd he call us tumbleweed?"

 

"Announcer." Fedora Boy shook his head with a grin. "That, my friend, is what we call a DJ. Disc jockey? He's Dr Death Defying."

 

"Um…"

 

"And we're all tumbleweed, ghosting across the desert - or being ghosted." A harsh laugh. "In the grand plan, we're insignificant, really. We threaten nothing. Or that's what Bones says, anyway."

 

"Bones? That film…Star Trek!" Josh snapped his fingers, pleased he'd remembered. "Bones from Star Trek?"

 

"You've seen that?" The driver looked puzzled. "There's a good film that hasn't been banned?"

 

"No." Josh ducked his head. "It promotes the idea that not following orders results in a better outcome. A couple of us…watched it illegally one time." He winced, remembering the swift retribution. It probably wasn’t the reason for his flunking out of SCARECORW, but it was certainly a factor.

 

Rather than looking disappointed, both men shared a grin. "Not bad, kiddo.” Well, then. “But anyway - Bones is one of us. He's young, just a kid really. Leader of a team of three, which is weird. Normally, if we’re going this far, we go out in fours, at the very least - don't ask why we're in a pair today. Hey - maybe you could join 'em!"

 

"Have to teach him how to handle a blaster first," the driver grinned.

 

"A - a blaster…"

 

"You got a lot to learn, kid."

 

"Like what the Exterminators have?"

 

"Oh, you know what they are?" Fedora Boy shrugged. "Well, at least you know which direction to run in when one gets close."

 

"Um…" Josh bit his lip. "I - I don't-"

 

"Look, kid. We're gonna take care of you, but you can't make it hard. We have enough to do surviving by ourselves without worrying about a liability. You got that?"

 

"Uh-huh."

 

"Great."

 

Josh decided it was time to change the subject. "Why's he called Bones?"

 

"Because once you remove all the tricky tricks, only skeleton bones remain," the driver said quietly.

 

"No, I mean - that's not his name," Josh insisted, suddenly realising none of them had introduced themselves. "Like, I'm-"

 

Something grabbed him from behind, clamping down over his mouth, and he yelled in shock.

 

"We don't want to know," Fedora Boy hissed in his ear. "Never tell anyone your real name, you hear me? Never. It gives them power over you, because your name means BL/Ind can find you. Especially you; you're a defector now, kid."

 

Josh nodded meekly. He was released.

 

"That's a bit rich, man, 'specially from you," the driver said, supremely unbothered by the fact Josh had just been assaulted and was now massaging his throat.

 

A shrug. "Yeah, but I trust you."

 

"Okay, here's the drill, kid." Deep brown eyes held Josh's. "No one will know your name. You'll keep it written down, always have it on you, so when you die we can read it. Before that - well, only if you really trust someone, and I mean with more than your life. If you trust them with your sanity, your freedom - then tell them. Some people are more relaxed about it than others, but I stopped trusting people a long time ago. For me, it's a promise. It's trust. It's an oath of silence. Apart from that, pick a name. And make sure you like it, because that's who you are now."

 

"Like anything?" Josh asked.

 

"Anything."

 

"I…" He stared at the desert flowing past, burning gold in the evening sun. "I don't know who I am anymore."

 

This got him a pair of identical sympathetic glances.

 

"Well, I'm Youngblood," Fedora Boy offered. "He's the Gold Standard. Pick anything, but make sure you like it - the rest of your life's a long time to be stuck with a name you hate."

 

They sat in silence for a few moments, but it was more comfortable, more familiar than before.

 

Until the voice on the radio stopped talking and a strange noise came over the speakers.

 

"Um…" Josh squinted at it. "I think it's broken."

 

Youngblood and the Gold Standard shared a glance before collapsing into giggles.

 

"Um…"

 

The Gold Standard was laughing so hard that the car started to drift.

 

"Watch the road!" Josh squeaked, and his voice slip was apparently so funny that Youngblood gave a shriek and slumped in his seat, letting out little hiccup-like noises.

 

"It's broken," Gold Standard gasped, resting his head back. "This is _music_ , kiddo."

 

Josh cocked his head and listened more carefully. It was…loud and fast, frantic, angry, like the sounds he’d made by tapping his hands on surfaces, but more furious. He loved it.

 

“Wait, wait, wait!” Gold Standard stuck one finger into the air like he was about to make a speech. “Is it – yes!”

 

Someone started – well, Josh didn’t know. Talking, shouting, screaming?

 

_“Don’t believe what they say! We’re dead flies in the summertime…”_

 

“I could tell from the drums,” Youngblood said smugly.

 

“Shut the fuck up.”

 

The backseat erupted in laughter again, while Standard joined in with the angry voice on the radio. _“They don’t like who you are-“_

 

Youngblood cut in. _“You won’t like where we’ll go!”_

 

They both shouted together, _“Brother, protect me now! With blood they wash in the money…”_

 

They carried on like that for a while, trying to get Josh to join in, until it ended and they collapsed in their seats, giggling.

 

 _“Alright, biscuits,”_ Dr Death Defying announced. _“It’s just about lunchtime, and I know I’m a little early, but I need to hit the road. Be careful out there today. Watch your six and keep one hand on your gun. Dr Death, hitting the road for today, but be awake early tomorrow for the first news and alerts. Show Pony and Cherri Cola will be taking emergency transmissions from now, because I know you’d all be lost without us. Take care, kiddies.”_

 

“That is early.” Youngblood frowned. “I hope he’s alright.”

 

“He’ll be fine. He survived the Black fucking Parade. Ain’t a thing in the desert that could take this guy out.”

 

_“Now, I have records lined up for the rest of the night. You just heard Destroya, and here’s a real relic for ya. It’s the Car Crash Hearts, with Dead On Arrival.”_

 

“I wish he’d warn us before he did this,” Standard moaned. “It’s just embarrassing.”

 

“He can’t radio in every time he wants to play one of our old songs.”

 

“What?” Josh stared as the noises – _music_ – began again. “This is you guys?”

 

“Oh, yeah. Come on, Youngblood.”

 

Youngblood sighed. _“Hope this is the last time I’ll ever say no to you…”_

 

 _“This conversation’s been dead – on – arrival!”_ Standard grinned. “Man, I missed that. Okay, kid, buckle up – um, metaphorically. We’ve been driving the wrong way for the past hour.”

 

“…why?”

 

“In case we were followed. We came out of a north entrance, and now we need to circle back around. Bear with us, it’s gonna be a while until we get to camp.”

 

“Sure.” Josh settled back in his seat, listening to Youngblood quietly sing along.

 

_“This is side one, flip me over, I know I’m not your favourite record…”_


	5. Party Poison Herds Cats For A Living

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Youngblood. Standard." A man sitting in the centre of the room stood. He had bright red hair and a sharp face. "You're back. Mind telling us where the hell you were?"
> 
>  
> 
> "Who's that?" another man interjected. He was blond, but had similar features to the first. "He a defector?"
> 
>  
> 
> "One problem at a time, Kobra," the red-haired man said coolly, still glaring at Standard and Youngblood. "You two went out, just the pair of you, left half your team behind, didn't tell anyone - what the fuck? You know I hate enforcing rules, guys, but they exist for a reason. You could've been in real danger-"
> 
>  
> 
> "Listen, Poison, I know this won't help our case much, but we kinda were." Youngblood winced as the redhead's expression hardened.
> 
>  
> 
> Josh could only stare in wonder. This was Party Poison, the infamous Killjoy. He’d changed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Helloooo. Back again. Once again, the characters will be at the bottom of the page, because even I can't keep up with them now.
> 
> Shoutout to Vicky. That is all.

The sun was setting when lights appeared in the distance. They were artificial, electric, but warm and yellow, not the fake whiteness of the city.

 

"We must be the last ones back," Gold Standard mused quietly. "It's pretty late. We did go the furthest, to be fair. We left early today."

 

Youngblood was fast asleep in the back, his round face looking strangely childlike and innocent. His fedora had slid halfway down his cheek.

 

"How many of you are there?" Josh asked.

 

"Us, kid, us," Gold Standard grinned. "You're one of us. Eh, enough, I guess. We're the biggest camp of any rebel group - there must be nearly fifty. In total, almost a thousand, with all the Crash Queens, Motor Babies, even the nomads, the Rats. BL/Ind have no idea just how many enemies they have."

 

"Wow."

 

"Yeah." The car slowed. "Gate check. I'll vouch for you, don't worry."

 

"You don't know me." There was no gate or border of any kind, as far as Josh could see, and were the rebels supposed to be this trusting?

 

"Who's there?" a voice shouted.

 

"I know how to read people." He rolled the window down. "Hey, it's Gold Standard and Youngblood. We got a friend to tag along. He's good."

 

"Standard?" A tall, skinny man materialised from the dusk, sunglasses over his eyes and hair pulled down one side of his head. "Man, good to see you! Antivenom was freaking out - we all thought you'd been ghosted. Poison isn't happy. Your friend?"

 

"A defector."

 

"Gotta name?"

 

"Not yet."

 

"Well." The man was suddenly by Josh's open window, holding a hand out. He was _really_ tall. "I'm the Youth. You can't fight against me."

 

"Uh, hi." Josh shook.

 

"Hey, Dirty? Let 'em through! After Life's gonna have a fit if he doesn't see 'em real quick!" The Youth turned back to Josh. "That's the Dirty. His parents remembered when people lived in the desert out of choice. You'll fit here, kid."

 

"Thanks." Josh could see no relation of any kind between the two statements, but it was nice to hear all the same.

 

Standard revved the engine. "Enjoy the night shift, gentlemen. At least it's not hot."

 

"We can see the stars," the Dirty shouted from somewhere beyond Josh's line of sight.

 

"The stars?" Josh leaned out, suddenly distracted. "I saw pictures…but you could never see them from the city. I always wanted to go…"

 

They were beautiful. Better than the pictures and projections in the education centres. So pure, and bright.

 

"Like the spacemen?" Standard grinned. "Hey, Youngblood? We're nearly here, man, and apparently about to get bear-hugged by Antivenom."

 

"Fantastic," Youngblood muttered sleepily, adjusting his hat.

 

"Hey, you're back!" a girl called, chasing after the car as it pulled into a gap between two more. "Guys, we thought the Dracs had you. Why were you so late?"

 

"Hey." Standard smiled and clambered out, letting her slam into him. "Sorry, Black. Just took a bit longer than we thought."

 

"You snuck out, you fucknuts." The girl had blond hair and enchanting blue eyes that followed Josh with suspicion. "Who's that?"

 

"A defector. He saved us."

 

"I'm Bulletproof in Black." A slim hand was quickly offered. "Thanks, I guess. These two can never take care of themselves."

 

"Now that's not fair," Youngblood objected mildly. "You seen Bones?"

 

Black jogged away and Josh noticed, as she passed under the warm pool of a floodlight, that the ends of her hair were bright blue to match her eyes.

 

The camp seemed to be a collection of weathered wood huts, arranged in a kind of circle around a larger one. Everything was pale under the moon – that was much brighter than in the city, too – and the desert that had seemed like gold dust earlier now looked like the pictures he’d seen of snow.

 

"Standard!" a voice bawled, and both Josh's new friends were tackled by a mop of curly hair, arms heavily inked. "If you guys ever do that again, I swear - dude, we thought you'd been ghosted! If you ever sneak out like that, I will hunt you down and blast you to dust myself."

 

Josh couldn’t stop staring. If one thing was absolutely forbidden in the city, probably as a way of catching rebels more than anything else, it was having a tattoo.

 

"Sorry, man." Standard hugged him back. "We found a friend, though?"

 

"Huh?" The curly-haired man released Standard and Youngblood to blink at Josh. "Oh. Who's he? Wait…he's from the city! Why have you brought one of them here? Is it really you?"

 

"Dude, look at their eyes." Another man appeared, well-built and even more covered in tattoos than the first. "They haven't been wiped, and they're not droids. It's them."

 

"They've got a BL/Ind ass-kisser with them," the skinnier man hissed.

 

"Hey!" Josh snapped, sick of being excluded from a conversation about him. "Just because I'm from Battery City doesn't mean we like being under Better Living."

 

Silence. The two new arrivals surveyed Josh with a little more respect and less malice.

 

"Well, you got bark, newbie," the first said finally. "I'm Afters - the After Life of the party."

 

"Antivenom." He smiled widely. "Excuse Afters, please, he's been smoking again."

 

"Yeah, no worries." Josh turned to Standard, his sudden rush of insane confidence ebbing. "Look, are you sure it's alright for me to be here? I can understand they might not trust me, but I'm from the city."

 

"Dude," Youngblood said vehemently. "Look, guys, to tell you the truth, we were dust without him. He saved us."

 

After Life immediately turned on them both. "The fuck were you doing-"

 

"Well," Antivenom interrupted. "Come grab some late dinner, newbie, and tell us all about what went down."

 

Josh nodded, feeling his stomach clench at the thought of food. After Life was still hissing at Standard. "I can't believe you did that! You, of all people, know what BL/Ind can do, and to drag Youngblood into that? Just the two of you? Nearly getting ghosted? Fucking unbelievable."

 

Black appeared from a small hut as they all traipsed towards the main building. "Bones is sleeping. I couldn't find Selecta or Redwing."

 

"We'll seem 'em at breakfast," Standard decided. "Food?"

 

"I ate. Night, boys. The Bad's gonna want to know all about it." She wandered into the night.

 

Antivenom threw a strong arm around Josh's shoulders, herding him towards the largest hut. "You're with us. They'll stare, but Poison'll set 'em straight."

 

"Poison? Party Poison?" Josh grinned. "No way! That guy's like a legend - word goes around, but we never know if he's real." He remembered a fuzzy figure on the television, hijacked airwaves, a mess of black hair, fierce words spilling from curled-up lips. It seemed like a dream.

 

"Oh, he is," Antivenom chuckled, pushing through the door.

 

The building was one large room inside, full of mismatched tables and chairs. Groups of people were interspersed around them. Lazy chatter filled the room, but it faded to silence when everyone saw the new arrivals.

 

"Problem?" Afters muttered, sloping to a table and slumping in his seat.

 

"Youngblood. Standard." A man sitting in the centre of the room stood. He had bright red hair and a sharp face. "You're back. Mind telling us where the hell you were?"

 

"Who's that?" another man interjected. He was blond, but had similar features to the first. "He a defector?"

 

"One problem at a time, Kobra," the red-haired man said coolly, still glaring at Standard and Youngblood. "You two went out, just the pair of you, left half your team behind, didn't tell anyone - what the fuck? You know I hate enforcing rules, guys, but they exist for a reason. You could've been in real danger-"

 

"Listen, Poison, I know this won't help our case much, but we kinda were." Youngblood winced as the redhead's expression hardened.

 

Josh could only stare in wonder. This was Party Poison, the infamous Killjoy. He’d changed.

 

He wasn't at all like Josh had remembered or imagined him, but then Better Living were sure to paint him as the bad guy. He was small, but gave off a quiet authority. His scowl looked like it could burn Josh to the ground if it was turned on him. Kobra, the blond one, stood at his shoulder, looking ready to back him up on everything. He was the one who looked dangerous - not that no one else in the room did - but Poison was definitely their leader.

 

Youngblood took a breath. "Maybe we were stupid, but we would have been ghosted without our friend here. He saved us from the Dracs."

 

And all eyes turned to Josh.

 

"He's still in City get-up," Kobra noted. "Looks pretty clean, too."

 

Josh ducked his head, suddenly aware of how his white and grey clothes looked next to the vibrant Killjoy gear. Nothing was uniform; everything was different. The only redeeming feature was Youngblood’s red and black bandana that still hung around his neck, but that wasn’t doing much against the almost tangible animosity from the room.

 

"Can't have defected too long ago," Poison agreed. Both he and Kobra were giving Josh the same suspicious look now. "How long ago did you leave the City, newbie?"

 

"Uh…" Josh's brain ground to a halt. Party Poison was actually talking to him. "Just…earlier today."

 

"You left the city today," Poison repeated flatly. "They picked you up today."

 

"Y-yes."

 

Kobra instantly rounded on Standard. "How close were you to the City limits?"

 

"We, um…we hit a warehouse at one of the border points," Standard admitted quietly, staring at the floor.

 

"What the fuck!"

 

"Calm down," Poison hissed without turning. Kobra slumped back in his seat, giving Josh an unblinking glare. "I'll deal with that later. Your defector?"

 

"The Dracs didn't see him, but we weren't gonna leave him," Standard protested. "He saved our lives and risked himself to do it."

 

"Yes, because bringing a new defector - as in, defected about eight hours ago - straight into The End always goes _so_ well. Have you forgotten about Miss Jackson?"

 

"Okay." With a screech of metal, another man pushed a chair back and stood, flipping black hair out of his face and pushing it away from his forehead. He had a big forehead, Josh noted. "That was one time. Can we stop using that as an example, please?"

 

Poison sighed wearily. "Look, Bad-"

 

"Maybe," a pretty young woman added, poking the Bad playfully, "because you were the one who brought that woman back who turned out to be a spy and nearly got us all killed."

 

"It was a droid, actually," another woman with blond hair added. "Could've hypnotised him."

 

"Are we making excuses now?" the first woman teased.

 

"I hate you, Smile, I really do," the Bad sighed.

 

"But heaven forbid the great Bad did anything wrong," someone else added casually. He had a slow, easy voice, a lanky figure, a pretty face, a scarf draped around his neck, and was lazily balancing his chair on its two back legs.

 

"You know what, Good?" the Bad hissed, his smooth face curling into a snarl. "You can take your self-righteousness and shove it right up-"

 

"You two!" Poison snapped as the Good let his chair slam back on all four legs and began to stand. "Lay off. We have a bigger problem."

 

"Um." Josh raised one hand and both eyebrows. "Could I not be referred to as a 'problem', please?"

 

There was a moment of silence, before the two guys sitting to Poison's left collapsed into laughter. One had dark chin-length hair and was slapping the table, while the other, with a frizzy mop, managed to give Josh a thumbs-up. Fun Ghoul and Jet Star, the other half of the Fabulous Four.

 

"Guys…" Poison groaned, and suddenly he looked like a long-suffering parent. The dangerous rebel was gone. "Oh, whatever. I give up. You have a name, newbie?"

 

"No…"

 

"Well, newbie will have to do for now. You're welcome here, especially if what Standard said was true. Go eat something now, and we'll sort you out tomorrow. Everyone else, leave him be."

 

Josh smiled weakly and let Youngblood guide him to a chair. As soon as he sat, the entire hall got up and crowded around, shouting over each other in an attempt to get heard.

 

"No!" Poison wailed, letting his head slump into his hands. Kobra slung an arm around his shoulders. "It's like herding cats, I swear. I said leave him alone, guys. Let the man eat in peace."

 

Their audience slowly dispersed and Josh accepted a can from someone at his shoulder. The contents looked – and smelled – a lot like the meals in Linda Vista, and he gave an involuntary shiver.

 

Youngblood and Standard were already diving in, sighing through their noses. Josh took a mouthful, discovered both that it wasn’t as bad as it looked and that he was starving, and followed suit.

 

Chatter gradually rose again, until he could hear the table of girls giggling and the Bad protesting indignantly. Poison seemed to be arguing with Jet Star, but eventually broke into laughter as well. Everything was suddenly so free and wild and disorderly and unchecked, and he loved it.

 

“Okay.” Standard spoke through a mouthful of brown mush, and Josh must have looked affronted, because he quickly swallowed and scowled at Afters’ smirk. “Sorry. This is nowhere near all of us, but it’s enough.”

 

A young woman with red-orange hair walked in, shot a questioning glance between Josh and Poison, and sat down with the group in the middle. One of the girls managed to run her fingers through the Bad’s carefully styled hair, and he gave a shriek of outrage.

 

“That was Ruby, the girl that just walked in. She’s our medic, kinda took over from Jet, Black helps her out a lot.”

 

Josh caught Ruby’s eye, and she gave him a stunning smile before turning back to the woman who’d poked the Bad.

 

“You know us. You saved us, so you have our loyalty. That means Afters and Antivenom too; we’re a team.”

 

Afters and Antivenom nodded in agreement.

 

“Poison looks dangerous, but that’s his job.”

 

“It’s hard work being the face of the rebellion!” Ghoul shouted over, and received a cuff around the head from the face in question. “Ow!”

 

Standard rolled his eyes and waited until they’d stopped listening. “Ghoul and Jet will wanna be your best friends. Kobra…he’ll be tricky, he won’t trust you as easily, but if Poison likes you, he’ll warm up. The Bad’s like an excited puppy; he’s never really grown up. The Youth and the Dirty are far too good at riling him up, but he’s harmless. Promise. The Good…” He snuck a glance at the lanky boy who was getting up to leave, followed by two others. “He, and his team, are way more easy-going, but spend too much time with him and the Bad’ll hate you forever. Don’t ask.”

 

“I could tell.”

 

“Good boy.”

 

Josh grinned and took another mouthful, letting the shouts and laughter and excitement wash over him.

 

He felt like he’d come home.


	6. The Dangers of Fixing Cars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Come on, guys! Up, up, up!"
> 
> Josh groaned and rolled over, waiting for his lights to turn on. What happened instead was a mumbled chorus of swearing and death threats.
> 
> "Antivenom, I hate you."
> 
> "Love you too, darling. Breakfast helps with weed-overs. Promise. We need to get on the road quickly."
> 
> "Why were you smoking so late?" Youngblood sounded groggy.
> 
> "I wouldn't have to if you fucknuts didn't sneak out without so much as a word-"
> 
> "Okay." That was Antivenom again. "Save it, guys. Is the newbie getting up?"
> 
> Josh gasped out loud and sat up with a jolt. "I thought it was a dream!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyyyyy. Look at this, only a week after the last one. Just let me get my shit together for the next one. Might take a week or six.
> 
> I have posted another story. Don't Look Back is set before this, with the intention of building the world Josh is thrust into, giving the other characters their stories, so on. As I said, you don't have to read it, but this story will reference a lot of events from it with less explanation than I might have given otherwise. If you get lost, feel free to let me know. I'll try to post the relevant chapters to Don't Look Back as this story progresses.
> 
> As always, to Vicky: thank you for your reaction, it's so helpful XD

"Come on, guys! Up, up, up!"

 

Josh groaned and rolled over, waiting for his lights to turn on. What happened instead was a mumbled chorus of swearing and death threats.

 

"Antivenom, I hate you."

 

"Love you too, darling. Breakfast helps with weed-overs. Promise. We need to get on the road quickly."

 

"Why were you smoking so late?" Youngblood sounded groggy.

 

"I wouldn't have to if you fucknuts didn't sneak out without so much as a word-"

 

"Okay." That was Antivenom again. "Save it, guys. Is the newbie getting up?"

 

Josh gasped out loud and sat up with a jolt. "I thought it was a dream!"

 

He was greeted by four grown men laughing like he'd never heard anyone laugh before.

 

This was real emotion, nothing forced by coloured pills and synthetic endorphins. It was loud and brash and it scared Josh a little, but he loved it at the same time.

 

"Look at his little face!" Afters managed to get out. "You're cute, kid."

 

"I am?" Josh automatically ran a self-conscious hand over his curly brown hair, before remembering that Afters had ten times as much hair as he did, and it was impossibly frizzy. "Huh. That's new."

 

"Is it?" If anyone was cute, it was Youngblood, with his baby face and innocent green eyes. "Didn't fit in the city?"

 

"Never."

 

"Well, you'll fit here." Standard offered him a hand, but Josh flinched away and clambered up by himself. "Not big on holding hands in the city?"

 

"No, not if we could avoid it," Josh agreed. Physical contact, particularly in public, was discouraged unless you were in a registered relationship.

 

"The cities keep getting weirder," Antivenom muttered, and Josh noted his use of the plural. He filed it for later.

 

"Are they a bit touchy?" Standard asked with a smirk, and received groans all around. "Hey, get it? They're touchy about being touched?"

 

"Awful," Antivenom moaned.

 

"My soul physically hurts," Youngblood agreed, but he was smiling.

 

"Anyway, newbie. Breakfast time," Standard announced. "Bones and his lot should be up and at it, so you can meet them. The Bad's dying to see you again; he thinks you look like a 'solid guy', whatever that means, and Poison wants to see you as well."

 

"He wants to talk to me again?" Josh whispered.

 

"Dude, he's not some celebrity. He's just one of us, our friend, unofficial leader, all that. Sure, he's a dick sometimes, but Jet, Ghoul and Kobra always set him straight."

 

"Wow." To Josh, Party Poison was still that dangerous figure on the screen, a strip of black paint over his eyes and angry words pouring from his tongue.

 

"Yeah. Come with me and Youngblood. You two have somewhere to be, don't you?"

 

Antivenom nodded, his smile all but gone. "We'll see you in a bit."

 

"Be careful," Youngblood murmured, pulling them both close.

 

"Hey, it's only a run halfway to Four and back. Not like we're chasing the sun down Guano or anything." Afters smiled, ruffling Youngblood's blond hair and making him scowl. "Later, newbie. Don't let Kobra kick your ass too hard."

 

"What?" Josh asks, but the pair were already gone.

 

"He was joking." Standard snorted at the expression on Josh's face. Youngblood drifted to stand next to him and intertwined their fingers.

 

"Will they be alright?"

 

"They'll be fine." Standard pressed his lips to the top of Youngblood's head. "Oh, go on, Mom, go and see them off."

 

"I don't care about them!" Youngblood protested, tugging away but stretching his arm to keep their fingers touching. "I just want to make sure they look after the car."

 

Standard laughed again, letting go, and ran a hand through his black curls as Youngblood darted out of the door.

 

"So, I guess you're pretty big on touching here?" Josh said awkwardly, scuffing his feet on the ground.

 

"Hm? Oh, yeah. You'll get used to it, don't worry."

 

"Are you two, like, together?" While it wasn't illegal to take a partner of the same sex, it meant a lengthy registration and had therefore become slightly frowned on. After all, it was best for everything to be as efficient as possible.

 

"Kind of? Not really?" Standard frowned. "Um…look, the way I see it, kid - and once you've had a near miss, you'll see it too - there's no point trying to tie anything down out here, no defining it into little boxes. Life moves too fast and too dangerously for that. You just gotta…be with the people you love, in whatever way you want, and enjoy it."

 

"Wow." Josh smiled. He liked that. "That's deep."

 

"Yeah, I do that sometimes. Anyway, now we got that down, you want food?"

 

"Yeah."

 

"You might wanna put your shoes on."

 

Josh had no way to tell what time it was, but people were already up and about.

 

The camp was a scattering of small wooden huts, like the one belonging to Josh's new friends, arranged in some kind of circle around the larger mess hall.

 

The Bad was lounging outside his with the tall man who'd been on guard last night. The Youth, Josh remembered.

 

The cars were parked in a messy line, some with windows and doors open. Josh saw the car he’d come in yesterday, a scorch mark shooting through the painted bat, while one looked suspiciously like a standard-issue Better Living Trans Am.

 

"Is that-?"

 

"Hm?" Standard looked around absently. "Oh, yeah. That's a Trans Am."

 

"They've changed it." One side was black, the other had a strange design of red and white stripes with white stars in a blue box, and the back shouted _LOOK ALIVE SUNSHINE_. "Awesome."

 

"’Course. If you're gonna nick BL/Ind's stuff, you're not gonna keep it black and white.”

 

Josh drifted around to the front, mouth open. The hood was up, a pair of denim-clad legs wriggling in mid-air while the torso was buried in the engine, and a small girl watching with no small amount of amusement.

 

"Hey, Chrissy?" The shout was muffled, and the legs wriggled further into the hood. "Gimme a screwdriver?"

 

"Uh-huh." The girl had brown curly hair as well, and Josh smiled at her. She grinned back, eyes lighting up, and fished in the toolbox resting precariously on the front of the car.

 

Her hand missed.

 

The toolbox lost its fight against gravity, sliding from its perch and crashing into the open hood with a heavy clang. There was a yelp of pain and the sand-weathered jeans jerked as the owner tried to free themselves.

 

Standard was howling with laughter again, and Josh grinned. Was this what being happy felt like?

 

"Oh, I'm sorry!" Chrissy called, but she was laughing too hard for it to sound genuine.

 

"I don't think he meant the entire freaking toolbox, Chrissy." Kobra appeared from nowhere, face as impassive as the night before, and Josh braced for a scathing comment.

 

"I said sorry!" Chrissy laughed, not seeming at all bothered by Kobra's mood.

 

Kobra rolled his eyes and a fond grin spread as he ruffled the girl's hair. Well, then. "Poison? Are you dead?"

 

"No." So it was Poison under the hood.

 

"Awesome." Kobra turned to leave.

 

"No, Kobra, wait!" How Poison could tell that Kobra had moved was beyond Josh. "I, um. I'm stuck."

 

"You're what?"

 

"Kobra, you really gonna make me say it again?"

 

"No, I didn't hear you, man." Kobra winked at Chrissy, which set her off in a fit of hysterics. "Your head's inside a car, you see."

 

There followed a long string of words which, until then, Josh had been unaware existed.

 

"Sorry, man. One more time for me?"

 

"For fuck's sake, Kobra!" Poison sounded like he wanted to throttle his friend. "Yes, my head is inside the fucking car. As it happens, so's about fifty per cent of my body, and I can't. Fucking. Get. _Out_!"

 

"Okay, okay. Standard's gonna help you." Kobra turned to Standard, who was folded in half with laughing, but scowled when he saw Josh's face. "Something funny, newbie?"

 

Josh took a step back. Standard had pretty much collapsed on the floor, gasping for breath, but he wasn't allowed to smile a little?

 

"It's pretty fucking funny!" the Bad shouted, and Kobra's distrustful glare softened as he turned back to Poison. Or Poison's legs.

 

"Kobra, I swear I'm gonna kick your ass over the nearest cactus if you don't-"

 

"Huh. Might leave you there."

 

_"Kobra!"_

 

"Okay, chill, bro. Come on, Standard."

 

Standard had apparently recovered the art of breathing and staggered over to yank on one of Poison's legs. Kobra did the same.

 

"Ow."

 

"Sorry."

 

Josh wandered over, watching in case Kobra snapped again. "Can I help?"

 

"Dunno, can you?" Kobra tugged on Poison's leg again.

 

"Um." Josh leaned forward, hoping Poison heard him. "Sorry about this."

 

"What?"

 

Josh threaded his fingers through Poison's belt and pulled. Kobra and Standard got the hint, leaning further in and grabbing whatever they could - parts of Poison's jacket, jean pockets. Poison grunted as they dragged him out of the hood and stood him up.

 

"Oh, fuck." He pulled a pair of greasy welding goggles off his eyes and up past his hairline.

 

"What?" Kobra looked him up and down. "You hurt?"

 

"No." Poison rubbed his stomach. "I just left all those tools in the engine. And the box."

 

"Okay, well, no offence, but get someone taller to fetch them out." Standard shrugged. "How exciting. Newbie's saved three of us now, and all before breakfast."

 

"Nice one." Poison turned to him, eyes friendly. "Go on, go eat before the zoo arrives."

 

"Thanks," Josh grinned.

 

Kobra sighed, but gave him a stiff nod before he stalked after Poison and Chrissy. Poison patted the roof of the car like you would an old friend and carefully pulled the hood down, showing Josh the huge spider painted on it.

 

"Hey!" Someone else rushed up, dressed in black leather and talking faster than Better Living could produce pills. "Is this the stray?" He grabbed Josh's hand without waiting for an answer, making him jump, but it seemed friendly. "Hey, newbie. It's awesome to meet you. Welcome to The End."

 

"Thanks…"

 

Another man joined the first, also in black. Out of everyone Josh had seen so far, these two looked the most nondescript, both with brown hair. The second man had a short beard, but that was about it.

 

"I'm the Eyes," the first said. He had a thick, nasally voice but was grinning brightly. "He's the Ears. We're surveillance - mostly eyes, though. Mikes are in short supply now, unless they're inbuilt into the camera, but that's mainly for smaller models, like helmet cams - sorry, you have no idea what I'm on about."

 

Josh grinned. "Nope, sorry."

 

"Come on." The Ears tugged on his friend's arm with a grin. "Leave him alone. Bet you're a little overwhelmed?"

 

"That's a word for it," Josh agreed.

 

"Yeah, it's weird. Like when you blink, and there's suddenly so much colour and emotion. It scared me at first, too."

 

"You're from the city?" Josh frowned. So much for being unique.

 

"Yeah, but not Battery."

 

And there it was again. "There's more than one city?"

 

"Yeah, Battery, obviously, and Angel City, Sin City, Windy City-"

 

"Okay, slow down, man." Standard finally intervened; maybe he could see the way Josh's brain had just melted. "He's just learned there's a world outside of his dome, never mind that there's other cities."

 

"Sorry." The Eyes and the Ears shuffled away with twin waves, looking sheepish. The Ears hissed, "I think, between us, we freaked him out."

 

"What…" Josh kneaded his eyes. "I need to sit down, and just…"

 

"Sick. Breakfast. I'm hungry." Standard pulled him away towards the mess hut. "Then we'll get you some clothes, and a gun, and Ruby'll want to see you, and then you need to train-"

 

"Okay! Overwhelmed, man! Officially overwhelmed." Josh let out a sigh of relief when he found that inside was considerably cooler than outside. "There's so much…"

 

"I know."

 

The mess hall was quieter this morning. The Four were still at their table, but Ghoul was kneeling up at his chair and fussing over the top of Poison's head while Kobra described to Jet, with huge yet awkward arm gestures, exactly how the redhead had gotten stuck inside a car. Chrissy was perched on the table, legs swinging.

 

Youngblood appeared behind them, hat back in place. "They promised if the car has a scratch, they'll do night duty for a week."

 

"Damn, but you're scary." Standard gave him a goofy grin.

 

There was a cluster of girls around another table. Josh recognised Black, with her blue tips, and smiled at her shyly. Next to her was Ruby, her hair somewhere between red and orange, pulled into a messy ponytail. Again, surprising – presentation had always been important in the city. Another had cropped hair, bright blue all over, and then there were the blonde and brunette who’d both been teasing the Bad the night before. As Josh watched, another young woman, with red-brown hair, joined them.

 

“Hey, Bones!” Youngblood waved to a group of three men sitting in the corner, apparently in various states of lethargy. “Meet our newbie.”

 

“You’re gonna have to pick a name,” Standard grinned. “Or newbie’s gonna stick.”

 

“Tell me about it,” Josh agreed.

 

“This the City rat you picked up?” one of the three asked laconically. He had brown hair and a deadly glare.

 

“Saved our lives, so be nice,” Standard warned.

 

“Redwing.” The first man sighed, like talking was a huge inconvenience. “We’re the Heathens.”

 

“Selecta.” He seemed friendlier, despite his shaved head and neat beard. He also looked like he could flip Josh with one hand if he ever felt the need to. “Good to meet you.”

 

“You too.”

 

The final member was small and skinny, with short dark hair and tattoos, head tilting as he looked at Josh. There was an innocence about him, similar to Youngblood’s, that made Josh want to hide him from the world.

 

“Skeleton Bones,” he introduced himself. “Because that’s all we are, really.”

 

“Don’t go all deep on us,” Selecta moaned playfully, ruffling the kid’s hair.

 

“No! Do not touch!”

 

Standard leaned forward and poked Bones on one of the black bands that wrapped his left arm, earning a shriek of outrage.

 

Josh laughed, and Bones turned on him with a sly grin. “Oh, it’s like that, is it?”

 

“Sorry?”

 

“Oh, you better be!” Bones pounced, and Josh turned away so the kid landed on his back with a giggle.

 

“What the hell?” Josh laughed, bouncing to try and get him off. “What are you, a monkey?”

 

“I want food,” Youngblood moaned, and the scuffle broke off instantly, Bones sliding to the ground again.

 

“Uh, see you later?” Josh called as Standard dragged him away. Redwing and Selecta only nodded vaguely, but Bones gave him a real grin and a thumbs-up.

 

He was the first one who looked genuinely excited that Josh was here, rather than a novelty. Even so, as he swallowed down another can of who-knew-what, he could feel Redwing’s unfriendly gaze on the back of his neck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, frens!


	7. A Day in the Life of a Killjoy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Josh had spent the morning being casually interrogated, stared down, glared at, and as the punchline of more than one ‘so a City Rat walks into the desert’ joke.
> 
> “You’ll meet everyone else eventually,” Pete continued in a manner that was probably supposed to be reassuring, but Josh frowned.
> 
> “There are more of you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! Look who's back! (it's me)
> 
> I apologise for this being kind of a boring, filler chapter, which I think is why it took so long for me to write - give me action scenes any day.
> 
> If you're still with me, welcome back, and I do see every comment and kudos on this, even if I can't always respond to them, and they make me so happy, so thank you.
> 
> Once again, Tor has made this make sense to the rest of you and not just me.

“Lunch!” Standard announced, and Josh blew a sigh of relief.

 

He’d spent the morning being casually interrogated, stared down, glared at, and as the punchline of more than one ‘so a City Rat walks into the desert’ joke.

 

“You’ll meet everyone else eventually,” the Killjoy continued in a manner that was probably supposed to be reassuring, but Josh frowned.

 

“There are more of you?”

 

“Well, I think you met everyone who lives here, but there’re groups that pass through. Like, we used to see the Bohemians so often that they practically lived here. The American Idiots, too.”

 

“Who are they?” Josh asked, and earned a thoroughly confused look.

 

“Dude. You remember Party-fucking-Poison. How do you not know who they are?”

 

“Grew up in the City, remember? As far as we’re meant to be concerned, nothing exists outside the walls.”

 

“No, but there’s, like, Party Poison kinda legend, and then there’s the _American Idiots_. Are you serious? You actually-?”

 

“Yeah.” Josh felt like he’d disappointed his new friend. “Sorry.”

 

“Nah, it’s good, I’ll explain.”

 

They found a quiet corner in the main hut, away from Kobra and Redwing, who both seemed to have decided, completely separately, to Not Like Josh, for some reason. Youngblood tactfully sat with the Heathens and the Good, while the Bad and the Youth very untactfully tagged along.

 

Standard didn’t seem to mind, and the Bad treated him like a father and a friend all in one, so Josh just went with it.

 

“Tell us about yourself.” Standard spoke through a mouthful of lunch, but Josh could tell it was more out of eagerness than rudeness. “You said you’d been in BL/Ind’s own special therapy.”

 

“Yeah.” Josh gave a weak smile to the Bad and the Youth, but all they did was look impressed. “Admitted when I was twelve. As part of that, my mom enrolled me in SCARECROW’s training programme. I flunked out when I was thirteen, me and a couple of friends. We’d made a group called House of Heroes, and I guess BL didn’t like it.”

 

“What about before?”

 

Ah, the tricky bit. “I…don’t remember.”

 

“You can’t?” Standard took it in his stride, and Josh made himself breathe again. “Anything before you were twelve?”

 

“Not really…”

 

“But you remember that you failed the SCARECROW programme?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“So BL/Ind have fucked with your head, but not enough to make you forget that.” Standard looked thoughtful, but not overly worried. “Nothing new, but we’ll let Ruby take a look, just in case. You act like you’ve seen Poison before, right? When?”

 

“I guess…I would have been twelve, as well. Standing in the street, the week before I was due to go in for correction.”

 

“Ew.” The Bad wrinkled his nose. “Correct what? You’re awesome, man.”

 

Josh smiled in thanks and continued. “My mom was buying groceries, and I had to help, because I was the disappointment of the family. Anyway, we’re doing our thing, when all the TVs in the dome just…change.”

 

The Bad and the Youth tilted their heads, almost comically in sync. Standard began to look more than a little uncomfortable.

 

“There’s this guy on them, black hair, black paint.” Josh dragged his fingers across his eyes to demonstrate. “And so angry, shouting, swearing. It was so _cool_. The broadcast was cut, and BL/Ind came back, apologising for the ‘vulgar language’, and then told us not to panic, as they’d taken back control and arrested one Killjoy.”

 

The Youth still looked just as confused, but the Bad glanced at Standard, who gave a rueful grin.

 

“That was you?” Josh stared. “You were captured?”

 

“Long time ago, now, kid. We call it my seven minutes in heaven.”

 

“What…happened?”

 

“The Four busted me out. Youngblood brought me back to myself. I was…not really there for a long time.” Standard sighed. “Anyway, you nearly done? Ruby needs to give you a check, make sure you haven’t brought city plague with you or anything. That could kill everyone here.”

 

“Is that a thing?” Josh looked to the Youth for help. He received none. “Oh, shit, I-“

 

“Relax, he’s fucking with you,” the Bad said easily. “We just run on different air to the city, so any bugs you have might affect us worse than you, and vice versa. We won’t die, don’t worry.”

 

Poison appeared at Standard’s shoulder, face twisted into an almost comical pout.

 

Standard sighed again. “What, you massive fucking child?”

 

Josh blinked, shocked that anyone would speak to a figure of authority like that, never mind a rebel, never mind one of the Fabulous Four, never mind _Party Poison._

 

“There’s no coffee.”

 

“Oh, that _is_ bad.”

 

“Yep.”

 

“Have you told Kobra?”

 

“Nope.”

 

“Ah.”

 

Poison sighed. “Who’s on the run today? It’s meant to be you guys, isn’t it?”

 

“Afters and Antivenom have already gone.”

 

“But will they know to get coffee?

 

“They’ll know.”

 

“But no one told them-“

 

“They’ll know, Poison.” Standard reached behind him to give Poison a clumsy pat on whatever was at arm-level, which happened to be his thigh. “Just hang on and don’t let Kobra go cold-turkey, alright?”

 

“Uhhh…” Poison whined. “Easier said than done.”

 

“They’ll be back soon.”

 

Poison turned to slouch away. “I was really looking forward to coffee. Oh, hey, by the way, newbie.”

 

Josh blinked. “Hi.”

 

“Have I said hi to you today?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Poison frowned in confusion. “I really need coffee.”

 

“Go have a nap,” Standard tried.

 

“Have you ever had coffee, newbie?”

 

“Only in the City.” Josh made a face at the memory.

 

“Oh, you’re gonna love this,” Poison grinned. “So much better. Until it runs out.”

 

“Just go lie down, Poison!” Standard sounded exasperated, but he was laughing.

 

Poison rolled his eyes and sloped away.

 

“Don’t drink coffee,” Standard stage-whispered to Josh. “Worse than Ritalin out here.”

 

“Hey!” Josh looked up to see Ruby, perched on the table next to him He hadn’t even heard her approach.

 

“Hi.”

 

“So, when you’re ready, I’m gonna give you a quick check. I’m sure you’re clean, but there’s a lot of us who never developed a City immunity, so better to make sure, right?”

 

“I’m ready now,” Josh said, maybe a little too quickly. Standard snorted.

 

Ruby smiled, and she was suddenly twice as pretty. “Great. See you in a minute.”

 

“She’s taken, dude,” the Bad said, almost apologetically, as soon as Ruby had skipped off.

 

“Oh.” Josh frowned to himself for a minute. “Was that…flirting?”

 

“So clueless,” the Youth mumbled to himself, but it was more fond than disparaging. “I don’t know if it counts if you don’t know you’re doing it.”

 

“Huh.”

 

“Let’s go, loverboy,” Standard announced, loud enough that Jet Star sent a mildly questioning look in their direction.

 

“Standard!”

 

Josh’s indignation was rewarded with an amused cackle, and he reluctantly followed the Killjoy out of the hut, wishing he knew how to stop blushing.

 

\-----

 

"Okay." Ruby gently held his lid open and peered in, shining a torch into his pupil. "So…what's your earliest memory?"

 

Standard had explained everything, and she’d thankfully reacted to it just as calmly as everyone else.

 

"I don't know. I guess…the first thing I properly remember is Poison."

 

"You met him yesterday," Ruby's voice was suddenly sharp.

 

"No, no. Um…when he hacked the airwaves. He broadcast himself across the whole city. It was…fucking awesome."

 

"Well, okay, but even that was only, like, six, seven years ago." Ruby sounded confused. "You must've been, what, eleven?"

 

"Twelve. I can remember really old things. I remember being loved, and feeling happy. But…I don't know, man." Josh sighed, frustrated with himself. "It's like my childhood is a blur, or something."

 

"Right, got it," Ruby said easily. "Okay, newbie. You okay with

needles?"

 

"Yeah?" Josh shifted. "I had enough stuck in me when I was a kid."

 

"Exactly what I was thinking."

 

"What for?"

 

"I'm gonna take some of your blood, make sure you're clean."

 

"I never took any pills."

 

"I know, but your memory's gone somewhere. They might have drugged your food or something. If not, we're gonna have to work around that snowstorm in a different way."

 

"Oh…" Josh must have looked so crestfallen that Standard smiled sadly and ruffled his hair.

 

"Don't worry about it, kid. BL/Ind have fucked with all of us at one point or another. That's why we're here."

 

"Like when you were captured?"

 

Standard winced, and John instantly felt bad. "Yeah, kinda."

 

Ruby twisted her lips, and Josh felt a little sting in the crook of his elbow. "All done."

 

“Cool.” Josh pressed lightly on the vein. “Um…so is there, like, anything I can do to not look like I’m a City kid?”

 

“Anything?” Ruby grinned. “Dude! You could dye your hair, pierce your ears, your nose, get a tattoo – I mean, you can do _anything_.”

 

Josh thought. He wanted something that had always been forbidden in the city, something he could never do. “Could I…get my ears pierced? Or is it a girl thing?”

 

“Fuck the City and their ideas,” Ruby said in response. “You want to do it now?”

 

“Um, wow, okay. Sure.”

 

“I’ve done loads,” Ruby told him as she cleared her needles away and pulled out something that looked horrifyingly like a staple gun. “I did almost all of Hurricane’s, I did Ghoul’s lip, and Howl’s ears. Remember that, Standard?”

 

“Who’s Howl?” Josh asked, before Standard could reply.

 

“Old friend,” Standard said stiffly. “He tries to stay away from me as much as he can.”

 

“I’m sure if you just _talked_ to him-“

 

“ _Thanks_ , Rubes.”

 

“Okay.” Ruby rolled her eyes and squinted at Josh’s earlobes. “Might hurt a bit. On three…one, two… _three_.”

 

It even sounded like a staple gun, and Josh was more interested in that than the tiny burning in his ear. “Ooh…actually, that’s not too bad.”

 

Ruby smiled again, and Josh found himself smiling back.

 

Another piercing later, his ears felt weirdly – not _heavy_ , exactly, but kinda just _there_ – and he was feeling more at home.

 

“Never knew I wanted to do this until I did,” he admitted, twisting the little stud. Standard grinned.

 

“Anything else, newbie?” Ruby said enthusiastically, and Josh thought.

 

“Did Ghoul have one…in his nose?”

 

“Yeah!” Ruby’s eyes lit up, a perfect combination of mischief, delight and glee.

 

“Ooh.” Standard winced. “That might hurt a bit more.”

 

“The septum will,” she agreed. “But if I do this bit-“ she gently poked Josh in the nose, just above his left nostril “-it won’t be so painful.”

 

“But it’ll look cool?”

 

“Fuck, kid.” Standard let out a huff of nervous laughter. “You’re a funny one.”

 

“Breathe in,” Ruby advised Josh as she got her staple-gun-thing ready again. “Feel free to swear.”

 

“Okay…?”

 

Standard winced again, screwing up his nose and pursing his lips.

 

“Three, two-“ Ruby clicked the handle early, making Josh jump.

 

“Oh!” He paused. “That’s not too – ah, shit!”

 

“Sorry,” Ruby said. “But it does look cool.”

 

Josh gently prodded his throbbing nostril. It felt hot. “Ouch.”

 

“I know it’s hard out here, but the most important thing is to keep it clean, alright?”

 

“Yeah.” Josh smiled. He felt part of something now. "Can I go?"

 

"So eager to leave." She smiled teasingly. "Of course. Hurricane's gone to open the weapons hut."

 

"For me?"

 

"Who else?" Another delighted giggle. "See you, newbie."

 

"Bye!"

 

"Like I said," Standard muttered as he hurried Josh away. "She's taken."

 

Hurricane was all smiles and bright blue hair, sizing up Josh’s hands and eventually deciding on a red and black blaster “to match your bandana”, which made Standard laugh and tell Josh he had to keep it now.

 

“Cool piercings,” she announced, for no apparent reason.

 

“Thanks.” Josh guessed she was being nice, since she had gleaming studs all the way up her ear. “Your hair’s awesome.”

 

“Blue would look good on you.”

 

Josh left with a gun with _SJC_ written in cursive up the side and an idea forming in his head.

 

“Okay.” Standard led him to the wooden decking outside the Hearts’ hut, but he was twitchy, constantly glancing up at the sun and out at the empty desert. “A few survival tips. The main thing is watch the sun. The heat can bake you, and that's if the static doesn't get you first.”

 

“What’s that?”

 

“What do your scientists call it…” Standard paused for a moment. “Uh, radiation.”

 

“Oh.” Josh knew all about that. “Yeah, they used to say if we ever left the city, we’d be turned inside out and fried.”

 

“You feeling fried?”

 

“Nope. I mean, if you’re sending out patrols all the time and they come back fine, your secret’s kinda exposed.”

 

“No one else noticed?”

 

“Don’t think so, but you have to be so careful in there. I learned how to act like they wanted, pretending to be clueless all the time; it’s the only way to stay safe.”

 

“Hm.”

 

“I had to do what I was told, play a part, try not to make anyone suspicious that I wasn’t taking any pills.” Josh frowned as Standard glanced around again. “Dude, you okay?”

 

“Just…waiting for Afters and Antivenom. A supply run shouldn’t take this long, even if Tommy’s being tricky.”

 

“Oh.” Josh didn’t know what to say. “I’m sure they’ll be fine.”

 

As if on cue, someone – it sounded like Hurricane, but he really had no idea – yelled, “Dust cloud!” and the whole camp seemed to move as one, people scrambling out from whatever shade they’d claimed to gather in front of the main hut, all squinting at the flurry of sand that quickly became a cloud.

 

Josh noticed fingers twitching, heading for weapons holstered on thighs or hips, some pulling knives from sleeves or shoulders, but a familiar black bonnet appeared, painted with a bat, and they collectively relaxed, letting the Chevelle pull up under the shade.

 

Afters and Antivenom climbed out, and the Killjoys quickly gathered around the car, pulling out boxes of food and supplies, cans of gas, trays of water bottles.

 

“Come on.” Standard’s clap on his shoulder jolted Josh into action and he joined the lines of people passing supplies towards the main hut, still feeling the contact as he worked. The Bad nodded easily as he handed him a box, and the Youth didn’t even blink when Josh turned and passed it back.

 

It felt…nice, like he was part of something, accepted by people.

 

Bones flashed him a grin over Ghoul’s head, and Josh couldn’t help but smile back.


	8. Training Montage: Cheesy Music Not Included

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whoever had decided that Josh’s first lesson needed to be hand-to-hand was clearly vindictive; maybe Poison had gotten wind of the Battle of Breakfast. Here he was, early in the morning to avoid the sun, about to get his ass kicked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look who's back! Finally! I'm amazed anyone still reads this, to be honest, because I'm so bad at updating and this fandom is very quiet at the minute. Danger Days was 7 a few days ago, that was a thing, and I feel old now.
> 
> Again, thanks to Tor for betaing this, it would be a mess of 3am ramblings without you. This is a long one as well, with lots of drama and information being thrown at Josh, and you. Enjoy.

Josh woke slowly the next morning, stretching under the rays of sun streaming through the window with a sigh of contentment.

 

A quick glance to the left told him that Afters and Antivenom were still very much asleep, but Youngblood's bunk was empty.

 

He climbed onto his elbows, blinked, and peered into Standard's bed. The sight of the two of them - Youngblood and Standard - curled around each other, breathing in sync, so comfortable, made Josh smile. Standard had one hand curled protectively around the back of Youngblood's head.

 

And then Josh's stomach growled.

 

He guessed it was early, seeing as no one else was awake, but he wanted food.

 

The camp was pretty quiet; only the Good was lounging outside his hut, dipping his head in a lazy greeting. Inside wasn't much busier, with Bones, Ruby, Black, Hurricane and Selecta clustered around a single table, eating from their white cans.

 

"Morning!" Hurricane shouted easily.

 

"Uh, hi."

 

Bones gave him a warm smile, brown eyes lighting up like he was genuinely happy to see him.

 

"Up early," Black said by way of a hello.

 

"Yeah, I guess. Don't know why, but I slept well."

 

"All that lifting yesterday," Selecta grinned. "Bet it tired you out."

 

"Must have." Josh accepted a can from Hurricane with a smile, feeling his nose twinge slightly as he yawned, and yanked on the ring-pull.

 

Brown mush flew everywhere, splattering all over Josh's grey and white clothes, the wooden table, and Bones' black tank top.

 

"Oh, crap!" Josh's hands flew to cover his mouth. "Oh, I'm so sorry!"

 

Bones glanced down at the mess on his shirt and back up again to Josh's horrified face. "Uh…"

 

Josh cringed. Second full day, and he'd already managed to embarrass himself, in front of one of the few people who was being genuinely kind to him. "I'm really sorry, man, I-"

 

_Splat._

 

Both Bones and Josh jumped as another rain of brown food sailed down the table, covering the two of them with even more breakfast.

 

Ruby, her arm still outstretched, gave one of her little giggles.

 

Hurricane shot to her feet. "Food fight!"

 

Everyone leapt up at once, scooping their Power Pup up with spoons and flinging it wherever they could. Bones hurled a handful across as Josh with a laugh, and Selecta jumped in to, “Defend your honour!” Ruby and Black were in the process of setting up a barricade with a few rickety chairs, while Hurricane tried to aim for their hair.

 

“Guys, what the fuck?”

 

They all froze comically, turning to see Standard and Youngblood in the door. Youngblood looked like he was trying to hide a smile, but Standard glared ferociously and he quickly fixed a faintly disapproving expression on his face.

 

“We don’t have the confidence in our trade routes anymore to be wasting food like this. BL/Ind are cracking down again, and we need to be stockpiling, not redecorating.”

 

Josh ducked his head. A couple of people mumbled apologies.

 

“Whatever.” Standard shook his head, his stern demeanour falling away. “Just clean it up before Poison sees, yeah? Newbie, Bones, come give us a hand with these water bottles.”

 

Josh followed with a grin, grabbing the remains of his breakfast and quickly swallowing it as they wandered to the supply hut. He felt almost scolded – Standard had seemed oddly parental – but that didn’t stop him and Bones exchanging sideways smirks.

 

Youngblood opened the door and began piling plastic bottles into a crate. Josh flinched.

 

All the water he’d drunk so far had been in plain, unlabelled bottles; these ones were clearly marked with familiar monochrome logos and text.

 

“You drink BL/Ind water?”

 

“It ain’t coming from anywhere else out here,” Standard reasoned, hoisting the first crate up so Youngblood could gather it in his arms and stagger towards the mess hut.

 

“Is it safe?”

 

“They’d be risking too much, contaminating water supplies. Everything needs it to live.” Standard started to lug his own crate in the direction of the main hut. “Come on, grab your own load and then we’ll see if Poison’s awake yet. He should have some idea about where to start your training.”

 

Josh grinned excitedly, and Bones bumped him with his shoulder. They worked together in comfortable silence for a moment, and Josh wondered how it was so easy to be around another person like this.

 

\-----

 

Whoever had decided that Josh’s first lesson needed to be hand-to-hand was clearly vindictive; maybe Poison had gotten wind of the Battle of Breakfast. Here he was, early in the morning to avoid the sun, about to get his ass kicked.

 

“Why are you still wearing that?” Antivenom shook his head in disbelief.

 

Josh frowned down at himself; he still hadn’t managed to change out of his white clothes, now spattered with food. “This was like a fashion statement in the city.”

 

Fun Ghoul chose that particular moment to stroll past with a handful of wires. “Well, out here, that’s not a fashion statement, it’s a fucking death wish. We see something white, we shoot at it.”

 

“Exactly,” Antivenom shouted after him. “Okay, kid, I’m gonna ruin them anyway, and then you can get some new ones.”

 

“What? Why-?”

 

Josh’s feet were swept out from under him and he landed on his back with a grunt.

 

“Got distracted, did we?”

 

“That wasn’t fair.” Josh wasn’t quite sure why he’d agreed on hand-to-hand practise with Antivenom, of all people.

 

“You think BL/Ind are gonna be fair?” Antivenom suddenly wasn’t the polite, friendly man he’d come to know. “They won’t give you a second chance. You need to fight.”

 

Josh clambered to his feet, tensing his legs. All that did was ensure that when Antivenom slammed his torso, he toppled over again.

 

“At least my clothes aren’t white anymore,” he muttered.

 

“True.”

 

They went on like that for at least half an hour. Sometimes Josh would get a hit in, but it always ended with him on the floor in way or another.

 

“Okay.” Antivenom peeled his shirt off, and Josh stared.

 

Antivenom was covered in tattoos. Sure, he’d known his arms were decorated, but all over his back, his chest, even up to his Adam’s apple, was inked with swirling designs; some were separate pictures, others part of a larger pattern, but they all seemed to fit together perfectly.

 

“Wow.”

 

“Huh? Oh, you should see Ghoul.”

 

“That’s so cool.”

 

“Want one?”

 

“Maybe. Do they mean anything?”

 

“Pretty much all of them. This one…” Antivenom traced a snake that wound across his chest, curling around an inked heart. “This is BL/Ind. They’re trying to take away everything I have left. We’ve all lost people out here, whether they’ve been ghosted or just left behind. I have what I want here, my friends, my family, and this reminds me I have to keep fighting. I can never let them win. I’m Antivenom. This is a poisoned fucking place, this whole world, but I won’t ever give in.”

 

Josh nodded, unable to speak.

 

“So you see what we all have to fight for now?”

 

Another nod.

 

“Good. Let’s try your blocks again.”

 

\-----

 

“This is gonna be so cool,” Hurricane sang as she pulled Josh towards Ruby’s hut. “It’s gonna look so good on you.”

 

Josh smiled bashfully. Black was already waiting outside, clapping her hands, and ushering him inside to sit in Ruby’s chair.

 

“Okay, bleach first.” Ruby went to work, carefully massaging every inch of Josh’s head. It burned a little, but she assured him that was normal. “You should hear Poison, honestly, he bitches like a baby when I do his. Even Kobra doesn’t complain like he does.”

 

It took about half an hour, but Hurricane began to point out that it was bleaching well, better than she thought it would. “Better than mine, anyway.”

 

“Yeah, not bad.” Black held out a bucket for Ruby to wash Josh’s head in. “I’m so glad we have someone else’s hair to mess with. Youngblood’s stopped messing with his, says the sun does the work for us, and Poison’s been red for ages. Kobra wants to let his grow. I feel like we’re not as…colourful anymore.”

 

“Ever been in Battery City?” Josh muttered, and they all fell about laughing.

 

Ruby quickly moved on to brushing the dye in, meticulously parting Josh’s hair to get the roots and then covering it all the way to the tips, her movements quick but confident.

 

“Best to leave it as long as we dare,” Black said when Josh asked how long it would be. “But your hair’s never been dyed before, so it should take the colour well.”

 

They chatted about mundane things: the food fight that morning; Poison’s briefing over lunch, warning about extra patrols being spotted by the Bohemians (that went straight over Josh’s head) and delivered with a pointed glare at Youngblood and Standard; the latest songs Dr Death Defying was playing. Josh asked a little more about them and found they were in a team with the Wind and the Smile, called the Strangers. They asked if there were any teams he had his eye on joining, and he said no, he wanted to see how they all worked as units. He didn’t voice the fear that had been creeping up on him: that everyone was perfectly comfortable in their teams and he would always be an outsider. Before they knew it, three-quarters of an hour had passed and Ruby was rinsing his hair out again.

 

“Okay.” Black held up what looked a broken-off wing mirror for Josh to look into. “What do you think?”

 

“Woah.” Josh didn’t recognise himself. His hair was fluffy from being vigorously dried, and it was the deepest blue he’d ever seen; it made the silver of his earrings and nose stud stand out. “That’s…that’s awesome.”

 

“I know!” Ruby squealed. “It looks so good on you.”

 

“Thanks so much, Ruby.”

 

“No problem. Sorry about your shirt, though.”

 

Josh looked down, saw his white shirt spattered with blue, and shrugged. “It’s an improvement. Bones was going to help me pick clothes out, anyway.”

 

“Yes!” Hurricane laughed. “You’ll look like a Killjoy before sunset.”

 

Josh jogged away, shooting another, “Thank you!” over his shoulder.

 

“The pleasure was all mine!” Ruby called back.

 

Josh wandered towards the Heathens’ hut, silently asking himself if Bones was actually there at all, when he heard raised voices.

 

“-I keep trying to tell you I’m sorry-“

 

“So you think you can just apologise and I’ll forget about it? You’re an asshole.”

 

“Please,” the first person said quietly, and Josh recognised them as the Good. “I know Brent shouldn’t be an excuse, but I just couldn’t deal with it.”

 

“You’re right, it’s not an excuse!” the other snapped. The Bad? “You just…left me. You left me in your dust. He wasn’t your friend, he was _our_ friend, and you left me to deal with it on my own, you took Jon and Spence, you just – you’re a selfish fucking bastard, you know that?”

 

Josh ducked past quickly and carried on, hoping they didn’t notice him.

 

\------

 

“You really need a name.”

 

Josh turned to Bones in surprise. “What?”

 

“I can’t keep calling you _newbie_ forever, can I?’

 

“No.”

 

They were lounging outside the Heathens’ hut, trying to ride out the worst of the midday sun. Dr D’s station was playing over the radio, the angry sounds of guitars and drums occasionally cut with interference. Josh’s head was still spinning from what he’d overheard; he’d never considered that the Good and the Bad had been friends, but had just assumed they’d always hated each other.

 

He was dressed in a faded grey T-shirt with a colourful design on it and black jeans, the bandana around his neck and a jacket tied around his waist. A baseball cap was resting backwards across his hair, which Bones had squealed at for five minutes, and his blaster rested comfortably in a thigh holster.

 

_“The best of…find happiness in misery!”_

 

Should he ask Bones?

 

“Oh, this is us.” Bones gestured as Youngblood’s voice faded away and a piano began playing frantically, interrupting his thoughts.

 

“Awesome!” Josh scrambled closer to the radio. Drums joined the piano, which sounded almost tinny and far-off, and then Bones’ voice came in.

 

_“He stays home from work this time…”_

 

Josh smiled, tilting his head before. “I like it.”

 

_“He is falling, and all he knows is…”_

 

“I’d hope so,” Bones laughed, eyes twinkling like there was the beginning of an idea there.

 

“How do you record stuff out here?” He could remember the polished, perfect, artificial music groups in the City and their high-tech recording studios. “Where do you get the equipment?”

 

“Dr D runs a studio out of his radio station. Anytime any of us have a few ideas, we can shoot down and lock ourselves in for a couple days. He’s got guitars, drums, a piano, ukuleles, all kinds – it’s the best. I’m gonna take you someday.”

 

“Cool.”

 

_“Get up, Johnny Boy, because we all need you now…”_

 

“This one’s nice.” Josh closed his eyes. “You’re telling people to keep fighting, but you’re not angry about it.”

 

“Yeah. Everyone needs something different. I just think there’re kids out there who’re scared that everyone’s so _angry_ all the time. The desert can be a strange place.”

 

“Oh, I know. Dead spooky.”

 

“You’re spooky,” Bones retorted with a snort, and stretched out again, digging his feet into the sand.

 

“Am I?”

 

“Spooky Jim.”

 

“Okay, now I think you’ve just gone mad.”

 

“We’re all mad as rabbits out here.”

 

“What’re rabbits?” Josh wondered.

 

“Never mind.”

 

“Spooky Jim,” Josh mused quietly. “Where did that come from?”

 

“I don’t know.”

 

“I like it.”

 

“Are you for real?” Bones sat up, nearly upsetting the radio in excitement. “Crap! Um – you wanna be Spooky Jim?”

 

“Spooky for short.” Josh grinned, and got a whoop of joy from his friend.

 

“Yes! Oh, come on! We have to tell everyone!”

 

“What? Bones-“

 

They spent the next hour darting around the camp, Bones introducing everyone to his ‘new friend Spooky’.

 

Standard and Youngblood looked thrilled, Poison and Jet slightly bemused at Bones’ excitement, while Ghoul shouted ‘Fuck, yeah!’ and Kobra looked like he couldn’t really give a shit. The Bad and the Youth took each of Spooky’s hands at the same time and pumped them up and down. Hurricane and Black kissed him on his cheeks. Ruby kissed him on the lips.

 

“You’ll love this next bit!” Bones kept saying excitedly, but Spooky never quite got what the Next Bit was.

 

Poison called everyone outside as soon as it got dark, making them stand in a loose circle around Spooky.

 

“Everyone welcome our newest Killjoy!” Poison shouted, and the group roared in agreement.

 

Kobra stepped up and handed Spooky a blaster, not looking happy but not too pissed either, so that was progress. “Point it up and shoot.”

 

“Spooky Jim!” Poison shouted, and everyone echoed it, sending the name rolling around the desert.

 

Spooky pointed the blaster straight up and fired a single shot, watching the flash arc across the sky and fade into the sands in the distance.

 

Everyone shouted again, and he swore he could hear Bones yelling his name loudest of all.

 

\------

 

“Okay!” Ghoul put his hands on his hips, looking incredibly pleased with himself, and carried on with his official-looking face. “Today, Spooky, we’re gonna be teaching you how to make a bomb.”

 

“A bomb,” Spooky repeated flatly. Day two, and they were throwing him right in at the deep end.

 

“Yeah, you know. Boom!” Ghoul flung his arms in the air, and Spooky wondered how such a small person could have so much energy. “It’s a very complex and delicate procedure, and – Crystal!”

 

Chrissy let out a delighted shriek as she snatched a screwdriver and bolted away. Laughter erupted from outside the Four’s hut; Poison and Kobra were sitting on the porch, out of the sun, and gasping for breath.

 

“Okay…” Spooky turned back to Ghoul, who looked like he was rethinking most of his life choices. “I hope that was non-essential.”

 

“Of course it was essential,” Ghoul retorted, but he was smirking. “The little shit knows _exactly_ what we need it for. She helps me all the time.”

 

“Wait, what?” Spooky held up one finger. “Back up. That kid helps you make explosive devices.”

 

“Basic survival out here, my friend,” Ghoul announced grandly. Spooky decided he liked him, even if he was a little energetic at times. “We picked her up when she was just a kid. Her mom was lost in the rebellions, dead or – or whatever. We’re the only family she’s ever had, so of course we taught her everything we know.”

 

“Raised by four older brothers,” Spooky mused. “There are worse things, I suppose.”

 

“Yeah. I mean, she’s only ten, but she’s good with the wiring in these things, and whatever tech Kobra wants to try out. Small hands. Plus, you should see her aiming the rocket launcher, she’s a good shot-“

 

Spooky decided this was the final straw. “You taught that girl how to fire a _rocket launcher_?!”

 

This was greeted by another high-pitched giggle from Chrissy, roars of laughter from Ghoul’s teammates, and Ghoul finally breaking his professional façade to collapse on the worktable in utter hysterics.

 

Standard and Bones finally arrived, took one look at three of the Fab Four choking on their laughter, and told Spooky that bomb-making was finished for the day. Kobra stayed where he was, lounging outside the Four’s hut, while Poison made his way over.

 

“Come on, Pony’s coming, Ghoul. They’ll have updates from the Doc’s end of things; we can ask if they’ve managed to listen in on any City broadcasts, see if Standard and Youngblood are still in shit.”

 

Standard scowled. “You can drop it now.”

 

“I’ll drop it when I’m certain you aren’t about to bring a strike force down on our heads,” Poison retorted.

 

“Come _on,_ ” Standard groaned. “We aren’t doing anything anymore, Poison. We’re just sitting here, waiting. I had to do something, anything.”

 

“And drag Youngblood into your crap? That’s not like you, Standard.” Ghoul’s voice was careful; he was clearly trying to defuse the conversation.

 

“Youngblood can make his own decisions.”

 

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Any calm was instantly lost as Ghoul responded to Standard’s sharp tone with equal bite. “Show me where I implied he couldn’t-“

 

“Okay, enough,” Poison sighed. “I can’t believe I have to go over this again, Standard. You put all of us in danger when you pull shit like that. You can’t be reckless out here-“

 

“Then what are we doing?” Standard snapped. “We’re stagnating out here, Poison, while they’re getting stronger. We need to get moving, start fighting again.”

 

“We’ve had this conversation before.” Poison suddenly dropped his voice, low and dangerous. “I’m not listening to your argument again.”

 

“Why? Because you know I’m right?”

 

“Because last time I let you talk me into doing stupid shit like this, you were captured and Youngblood almost died trying to rescue you.”

 

“Why is that-?”

 

“Because you were the one who shot him, Standard.”

 

No one spoke. Spooky held his breath.

 

“We’re past the point where we can fight back, and have any hope of winning. Those days are over.” Poison was definitely making an effort to calm down. “Most Zonies out here don’t want anything more than a peaceful life away from the Cities, and we can help keep that up for them. BL/Ind have kept out of the desert lately because we’ve been quiet, and now you’ve fucked that up. We haven’t had a proper clash for a few years, and you can bet your ass they’ve advanced their tech way beyond ours. We can’t be that irresponsible anymore, okay? The sooner you get that through your head, the better.”

 

“What, just because you’re too scared to do anything, you think everyone else feels the same?” Standard was snarling like a cornered animal; Poison’s jab about Youngblood had clearly pissed him off but also touched a nerve.

 

Bones touched Spooky’s hand and gently pulled him back, the two of them sidling away as Poison’s face turned as red as his hair.

 

“I am not scared, I’m sensible! Why do I seem to care more about what happened to you than you do? Why are you so ready to risk that happening to somebody else?”

 

“Time to leave,” Bones breathed in Spooky’s ear.

 

“Yeah.”

 

They scampered away, wincing as Standard and Poison’s furious shouts rose into the sky.

 

\-----

 

“Shooting!” Bones announced brightly during lunch. He’d quickly guided Spooky to the mess hall after they’d escaped, sighing and explaining that Standard and Poison hadn’t argued like that for a while. “The last time – well, you heard. It didn’t end well.”

 

“But was it that bad?” Spooky tried to keep his voice down while he swallowed Power Pup. “That whole thing about Standard and Youngblood – what was that?”

 

“I was a kid, so I didn’t understand everything at the time,” Bones said carefully. “But, when Standard was captured, it was bad. BL/Ind totally worked him over; he couldn’t remember who he was, where he’d come from, who any of us were. He snapped out of it pretty quickly once they busted in and rescued him, but it took him months to be okay again. Anyway, while they were fighting to get out, the SCARECROW who’d been in charge of brainwashing him found him, Kobra, Poison and Youngblood. I don’t know exactly what went down, but Youngblood ended up taking a shot to the leg, and Standard kept apologising for it every chance he got.”

 

“Fuck…”

 

“Yeah. I guess they had some kind of control over him…ugh.” Bones shuddered. “That was the last real offensive we tried – well, the last one Poison agreed to, anyway. He was so worried about losing someone else, especially after the Good and the Bad-“ He broke off. “Standard’s tried a couple of strikes with other groups, but they never go well, and I think that convinces Poison even more to just stay put and try to keep surviving.”

 

“Yikes.” Spooky finished his food. “That’s…wow.”

 

“Yup. Anyway, time to go shooting. You’re gonna have fun this time.”

 

“And why’s that?”

 

“Because I’m teaching you.” Bones gave him a winning smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we go! Thanks for reading. The next one is close to being done (I was going to post it with this but it got really long, and I thought I'd better get this out to you) so hopefully it shouldn't be too long.

**Author's Note:**

> Characters - this will be updated as more characters are introduced:
> 
> Skeleton Bones - Tyler Joseph  
> Selecta - Chris Salih  
> Redwing - Nick Thomas
> 
> The Gold Standard - Pete Wentz  
> Youngblood - Patrick Stump  
> Antivenom - Andy Hurley  
> After Life - Joe Trohman
> 
> Party Poison - Gerard Way  
> Kobra Kid - Mikey Way  
> Jet Star - Ray Toro  
> Fun Ghoul - Frank Iero
> 
> The Good - Ryan Ross
> 
> The Bad - Brendon Urie  
> The Dirty - Kenny Harris  
> The Youth - Dallon Weekes
> 
> The Smile - Sarah Urie  
> Hurricane - Halsey
> 
> Bulletproof in Black - Jenna Joseph (Black)  
> Ruby - Debby Ryan
> 
> The Eyes - Mark Eshleman  
> The Ears - Brad Heaton
> 
> Crystal (Chrissy) - Grace/The Girl


End file.
